


Not Enough

by WinterCB



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, F/M, Family, Friendship, Parental Akira, Parental Amon, Post-Canon, Post-Tokyo Ghoul :re, Rating May Change, Romance, akiramon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22950154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterCB/pseuds/WinterCB
Summary: Years since the Dragon War, human birth rate has drastically declined. While the world is battling to restore human population, a new breed that arises in Tokyo has kindled fire from both ghoul and human. Even those who hold no grudge are forced to pick up their weapons.——He promised to support her by her side. Instead, he made her wait. When he finally wants to do the right thing, he starts to realize that he had missed the boat.——At first, they were out there cleaning the streets. Then, they found the first kid and took him in. The shelter grew since then, so were their expenses.So, she took the job offered by a military contractor.That changes her fate forever.
Relationships: Amon Koutarou/Mado Akira, Kaneki Ken | Sasaki Haise/Kirishima Touka
Comments: 35
Kudos: 44





	1. Tragedy Repeats Itself

Monday, three a.m. Kento Hayashi was called to the scene. Third in a row.

“Have you heard?” That was his partner following behind.

They ducked under the tape and walked straight in.

“The drop of human birth rate?” Hayashi was too sleepy to entertain his partner. “Nothing new. The birth rate in Japan has always been on the low side.”

Police, TSC, and even the army? Everyone was here. Too bad it wasn't for a picnic.

“But this time, it sounds like a global crisis. The human race is going extinct in sixty years.”

“Extinction, eh?” Hayashi raised the plastic makeshift cover that hung vertically. 

Meat, flesh, whatever one calls it, smeared every wall and tile. The drawings on the bulletin board. A foot stuck out from an overturned triangular table. 

That place was messier than a slaughterhouse.

“Make it ten… if we don’t kill whatever that did this.” 

“Wait, Kento!”

He heard his shoe make a squishy sound then it was his partner’s lament.

“Seriously, you aren’t a newbie anymore yet you acted like one.”

His partner was right, but it was very difficult to maneuver his way through the room as there was not an inch that had not been soiled by human’s remains. 

It seemed like he had to keep his foot there until the lab arrived. “Chief’s going to kill me.” Even if he survived getting mauled, the report which he had to write would finish the job.

“You bet he would.”

Hayashi gulped. That voice was behind him. Perhaps he had kept his amateur self. Else, he would not have had that wishful thinking that he might be wrong. 

Hayashi turned to his partner for confirmation. The latter was literally a salt pillar. His death was certain.

“Status report.”

“Right. We've just arrived, sir. But…”

The chief stuck his head forward. Those triangular eyes swept the scene before finding the pile of sky-blue uniforms, which reminded Kento of his five-year-old.

“Children again?” The chief’s tone was bland.

Hayashi never knew if his chief had any emotion. If the latter did have any, he never showed them.

Associate Special Class Kuki Urie. Was that how all the TSC elites were like?

Whatever… His chief most likely disgruntled for being demoted to lead a bunch of incompetents like them.

“Yet to be confirmed.” His partner answered. “Like the previous cases, this place may not be the first crime scene.”

With that number of victims, the room should be in red, especially if the culprit was a ghoul.

“Minced victims and lack of blood spill…” Urie turned around. “I want a full report.” He walked away.

Both Hayashi and his partner waited. “Is he gone?” He had enough work and cases at hand that he did not have spare time to appease his superior.

An elite like Urie wouldn't stay long anyway.

The drizzle picked the right time. Beyond the sealed boundary, where the spectators were standing, a girl caught Urie’s eyes.

Unlike the rest of the crowd, she had kept her distance like an outlier. Her eyes, however, glued to the backs of the curious adults, not even perturbed by the wet mist that touched her eyelashes.

“Are you lost?” Urie crouched beside the girl.

Her waist-long hair and big round eyes made her a living doll.

“Where’s your parent?” He tried again just that once. Any wandering children should be considered a high-risk, especially when they were unaccompanied.

The girl turned her head to her left, leading Urie to a wailing woman. An officer was standing beside the woman, seemingly consoling the latter.

A victim’s family?

Urie took his white jacket off and draped onto the girl’s shoulders. There was nothing else he could do.

Except solving the case.

The girl turned to the leaving peacekeeper. Her hand touched the slick fabric over her shoulders. Her previously glued lips separated, manifesting a pair of long and pointed incisors.

Ghoul, human, or neither. The already grey world had taken a new color into the mix.

As of now, red had all the fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akiramon is one of my favorite ships. They are such a cute couple and I’m surprised that there are not many works that are dedicated to them. I hope this work will get more people to write their stories.
> 
> First chapter is short, but let me know what you think.


	2. Fatherhood

“Academy instructor?” 

Marude sighed and turned around to face Kaneki. “I know it sounds like a downgrade. I wouldn't beg you if I had a choice.”

“No, not at all.” Kaneki smiled. “It’s just… I wish to spend more time with my family for the time being. I’ll consider it.”

“Better be quick. Anyway, that is not the main reason to meet you here.” Marude walked to Kaneki’s seat and shoved a file into his hands. “What do you think?”

Kaneki flipped through the pages with photos of gruesome images of human body parts. Correction. What used to be human body parts. “If it’s Dragon Orphans, they shouldn't have left anything behind.”

“Perhaps they evolved again. Who knows? Those bastards seem to have developed a sick taste in children.” Marude ruffled his hair. “Whatever it is, it picked the worst time. The Prime Minister is literally breathing down my neck.”

“Everyone is afraid. That is understandable.”

“And the media decided to publicize the disproportion between ghoul and human populations with some made-up statistics.” His fists pressed above his hips. “Just get in touch with Urie. He’s in the Seventeenth Ward.”

“Urie? He is the principal of this case?”

“Yes. Now you know why we don’t have enough instructors.”

Kaneki clasped the file close and laid it on Marude’s desk. “I’ll get to it.” He stood up. His glasses glared with the touch of sunlight. Along with his silvery-white hair…

“You know that you look like Kishou Arima.”

It was that same smile again. “I know where you are getting, but that won’t work, Director.” Kaneki went to the door and opened it.

Marude shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, at least I tried.”

“However…” Kaneki held on the knob. “I have a few names that may help.”

“Your names are just the same as mine. Unlike you, they are even more stubborn and elusive.”

Kaneki pushed the bridge of his glasses up. “That’s before you asked for my help.” 

The door closed.

Marude snorted and crossed his arms. “Damn kid.”

Like Kishou Arima…

Kaneki walked down the aisle, but stopped to admire the bright blue sky.

He wondered if he had lived up to Arima’s expectation.

“Papa!” A toddler grasped her father’s pants while looking up to him.

The father glanced at the blonde girl, who had looked away, behind them. He turned around. 

“What? I never knew you had a daughter.” A woman, with her purple bangs covering her eye, went to them. “Amon.”

The toddler had slipped behind him. Both her hands clenched tightly onto his pants.

“Rabb… Touka. Why are you here?”

Touka smirked, pulling up the basket in her hand. “Special delivery.”

Children—from toddler to teen—gathered at the yard. Laughters and summer. Those made the best combination.

Her swollen calves dangled on the raised porch. A cup of hot drink in her hands. Although she heard that watermelon was a better option… “She’s new.” 

Amon glanced at her. “We found her two years ago… covered in her parents’ blood.” He watched the kids chasing one another. “She hasn’t spoken much since then.”

Touka stared at the black liquid in her hands. Her head raised. “Human or ghoul, children are the ones suffered most.” She turned to him, at just the right time when the shriek and wail pierced their ears. “But at this rate…”

Amon had not broken a sweat and remained as he was. “They can be handful sometimes, but the oldest among them,” he looked to the boy who was breaking up a fight, “Hikari, has grown up and helped take over most of the chores.”

Touka frowned. “And Akira?”

Amon’s eyes softened as he peered out at the blue sky. “When we started this shelter, she was the one cooking for the children.”

“Was?”

_One of us has to make a living._

The unlively recital from Amon did little to hamper Akira’s condescending face from manifesting itself to Touka.

Amon lowered his head. “I told her that I would support her. Instead, it’s the other way round.”

“I see.” Touka faced squarely and closed her eyes. The cup in her hands set on a nearby tray. “You haven't slept with her yet, have you?”

The cup in Amon’s hands almost slipped off. Having good reflexes did have its perk. “Touka! There are children here!” He watched her chuckle.

“How long has it been? The two of you together?” Touka leaned backward, relying on her straightened arms against the floor as support. She didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s very noble of what you’ve been doing for the children.” She turned her head to him. “Just don’t lose sight of the person beside you, Amon.”

The man remained silent and could only stare at her. While the latter was a lot younger than he was, her insight was never inferior to his.

“I should get going.” Touka slowly got up on her feet. As she arched her back, her belly protruded. 

A ghoul wife and a former human husband. The couple seemed to be doing well.

Were they an exception?

“Touka.”

The woman looked back.

“Have you ever thought that you and Kaneki might not work out?”

Touka breathed out. “All the time.”

Amon widened his eyes. 

“But I guess we never let that stop us.” Her smile told him everything he needed to know.

Six years. That was how long they had been together. At first, they were out there to help neutralize harmful ghouls. Then, they found the first kid. After that…

“Papa…” 

A smile drew on his face whenever he saw the girl. “What is it, Chibi?” 

The girl frowned and lowered her head. Her hand pressed on her tummy.

Amon’s brows raised at the groaning stomach. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

The girl nodded firmly and beamed. 

A little hand reached out. A big hand wrapped around it. 

Walking side by side, father and daughter swung their arms that were tethered together.

The bliss was invaluable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this idea from Amon’s background growing up in an orphanage and the emotion he showed when a child brought into the CCG.
> 
> He looked like a guy who has a soft spot for children.
> 
> Comments will be appreciated as always.


	3. A Father’s Pride

Running the shelter took not just grit, but it was time-consuming. For instance, in that household of twenty, half a day would be spent on laundry and cleaning. A feat only achieved with the help of a commercial-grade washing machine.

The rest of the time went to feeding the starving children. The teens, especially, had stomachs of the Binge Eater. Two family-size fridges full could barely last for four days.

And it happened again.

Watching the empty storage, Amon gulped. It was not just the chill air that made his blood vessels constricted, but his back as well.

“It’s empty again, isn’t it?” Hikari’s question zapped Amon’s spine. 

Amon did not need to turn. That boy must be crossing his arms and shooting a silent glare at his back. 

Who would have thought a former top-class ghoul investigator had to earn a boy’s approval for parenting skills?

“Ah! Chibi!” Amon grabbed the six-year-old’s waist just in time before the latter climbed into the freezer. “You can’t climb in there.” He frowned at the girl, who did not stop giggling.

“Breakfast! Breakfast! Breakfast!” The rest of them who had gathered around the tables. They were using cutlery as tools for protest and chanting with an almost creepy unity. If food did not get served soon, mutiny would ensue.

The chants and the thuds quickly died out.

Quick battering of eggs in a bowl. Sizzling hot oil over a flat pan. Sequential tinkles from the toasters. Enthralled eyes followed the actions to the very end as their noses wiggled at the salivating aroma.

Soon, all plates were filled. Even little Yuya had a bowl of wheat porridge served on his high chair.

“Done.” Hikari untied the knot behind his waist and removed the apron.

Amon never knew when Chibi jumped out of his arms, because his eyes were on his oldest.

Hikari, as Amon’s most reliable son, did not take on the responsibility voluntarily. Growing up unable to rely on adults, the boy was forced to soak up all necessary skills to survive. That habit made him an acute observant, which helped him copy Akira’s cooking to perfection.

“There.” Even the way Hikari thrusted the coffee.

For a fleeting moment, Amon thought Akira had returned. “Thank you.”

As Amon recalled, that child had been having trouble trusting anyone. Nevertheless, Amon had never seen Hikari act insolently to Akira.

“Hikari, you really look up to Akira, don’t you?” Amon knew his question was redundant. 

“What question is that?” Hikari’s unfazed look and stare, on the other hand, were evaluating Amon’s intelligence quotient. A verdict Amon wished not to know.

That defeat did not mean the end. No matter how many years it would take, Amon had determined to improve himself in every way, until Hikari would open up to him. 

“Does it matter anymore?” Hikari took a bite from the sandwich. “Since she ditched you.”

The veins on Amon’s temples popped. Perhaps he should just start small by teaching Hikari some manners.

Hikari picked up his bag and went for his shoes. He turned his head back. “Guys, we’re going to be late.”

Like a flock of pigeons, the kids fled for their bags and shoes. 

“Papa.” Chibi tugged at Amon’s pants. “Papa?” She tilted her head.

With most of the kids gone, the shelter regained its serenity, but a father’s job never ended. “Chibi, do you want to help?”

  
A towel wrapped about the head. Little Yuya strapped behind his back. The giant knelt on his knees and bent his back forward. Both hands pressed against the folded cleaning cloth on the lacquered floor.

“Ready, Chibi?”

“Erm!” The girl sitting before him nodded her head.

Amon raised his knees. His support shifted to his palms and toes.

“Aaaaa!” “Weeeeeeee!”

Using Chibi as a training weight between his hands, Amon propelled themselves forward. Father and children glided from one end to the other end. 

Back and forth. 

Wherever they went, they left behind spotless surfaces that shone even in the absence of light.

Amon stood up. With the back of his arm, he wiped off the sweat that hung onto his chin. Steam wrapped his overheated body. In the humid air, even his breath was moist. “Having fun, Chibi?”

“Again!” The girl threw her hands up in the air. Her voice stirred the sleeping baby.

“Alright, alright.” Looking behind him, Amon bounced the baby on his back. He then turned to the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost time to feed Yuya. 

“Papa!” Chibi ran to Amon. “Again! Again!”

Amon bowed and sniffed the girl. “You smell.”

Chibi ducked under his arm, pounded onto Amon, and bound his legs with her arms. “Papa smell.” She made a broad smile.

If Amon bathed the children and himself, there should still be enough time for him to do some grocery shopping and prepare dinner before the kids came home.

_She ditched you. She ditched you. She ditched you._

Amon’s brows twitched. He could let it go if Hikari only had a bad mouth, but Akira worked hard for the children by putting the financial burden on herself. Making fun of her effort was something Amon could never tolerate.

Akira. He wondered how she was doing.

“Chibi.” 

His daughter’s round eyes gazed at him.

“You wanna see Mama?”

Her smile broadened from one ear to the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine a giant with a small baby on his back and a little girl clinging onto his leg.
> 
> If I could draw, I would hung that picture on my wall.
> 
> Amon would make a good father. Don’t you think?


	4. The Woman Who Embraces the Sun

A turn on the lock. A push on the door. 

“Hi, Maris Stella.” 

The cat stood up from the rug. She yawned and stretched herself while her owner yanked away her high-heels. 

Not waiting for her cat to move, she crossed over the feline and shed the briefcase in her hand, which she rolled to flex her strained muscles, before she fell face down on her bed.

She sighed. That was the reality of Tokyo’s office workers. You got the comfort of working behind the glass windows, but your job and hours were worse than an ant’s.

“Mado-san, sorry to disturb you.”

The voicemail could do anything it wanted. Good luck trying to wake a dead log. 

Even if the mid-day sun rose on her, scorched or even burnt her, she would be too dead to feel it anyway.

“This is Nakajima from three-one-five.”

Nakajima? Right. The nice lady two-floor below. 

Try again when her brain was not shutting down.

Ten points for the attempt though.

“Your husband and children were waiting for you at your doorstep…”

Husband?

Her head snapped up. Her eyes refused to open, because those eyes were not supposed to open when she was dead, just like the rest of her body. 

Her only systems which refused to cooperate—her ears, the traitors—decided to function just fine.

As a former ghoul investigator, that enhanced sense was a lifesaver, but not anymore when she had hung that uniform and became a low-life.

“So I invited them to my place. Please let us know when you are back. Thanks!”

Perhaps she should just go back and slay some ghouls for a living.

Or she could just drop by a convenience store and get some ear plugs next time when she was on her way home.

The voicemail had stopped. Her head dropped too.

Husband. Children. Whatever that message said. She did not hear a thing.

Yet after five minutes, she got up, against every muscle in her that was screaming in protest. With her eyes still closed, she went to the door and kicked into what she thought were some slippers. Not that she would care if they were not. 

All she wanted was to get everything over with and jump back to bed.

A decision made under sleep deprivation was a bad decision. Hers was yet another number that boosted the statistics of that study.

True enough. When she showed up at her neighbor’s doorstep, her poor neighbor almost had a heart attack.

She did not have to ask to know why. 

By now, some of her hair must have loosened out from the braid she did a day ago. Together with her knitted brows that deepened the frown on her face, she probably looked worse than her grumpy cat.

Or a ghoul.

Her look was something she could not control. She was her father’s daughter after all.

Still, she was the one who startled her neighbor. She apologized the best she could, but through her mouth every word somehow became unapologetic.

“Akira?”

The aisle from the entrance was short enough for her eyes to pick up the giant. 

She never thought she would still be awake and her eyes had opened.

Her brisk steps to the man she had not seen for months were falling behind the intended tempo. To make it worse, her feet weighed a tonne on the floor. It was not so bad until… “Why are you here?” 

_I missed you._

She ignored her brain’s attempt to correct herself. He should know that she was never good at playing with words. So, he should not expect her try doing it when she had not slept for the last forty hours.

“Akira…” It was either his eyes just cast a spell, or the sleeping demon had stilled her.

Either way, that did not last long.

Their eyes dropped to the baby in Amon’s arms. With his tiny hand grabbed onto his father’s navy blue shirt, Little Yuya nuzzled to Amon’s chest, secured and free to wander in his dreamland.

Who would not envy a baby?

“Mama!” The girl with messy hair ran to Akira and bumped into the latter’s shin.

Oh, so there was her script.

The soft black hair on the baby and the long, curly blond on the girl were some hard to miss traits. With Chibi’s calling her, Akira was forced to play the angry and unappreciative wife.

Akira knew that she should just ignore everything, but she could not, especially when there was a stick wiggling in the girl’s mouth.

“What are you having in your mouth?” Akira crouched and pulled the lollipop out of the girl’s mouth. Chibi’s sweet tooth would soon get bad if Amon kept indulging her. 

“Mama! Mama!” Already at six, Chibi was only the size of a three-year-old and never learnt any new words.

That had to stop.

“Did you have to bring along the children?” If Akira failed to silence Amon before, she had succeeded now.

Had her neighbor not stepped in to mitigate, Akira would regret everything that followed. That kind soul even offered to babysit the children.

Both then returned to Akira’s apartment.

Sitting face to face, with only a low table between them, they could tell each other whatever they wanted. 

Akira made some coffee, because it was unlikely that she would be able to sleep anyway. “Sorry…” She grabbed her elbow. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I should have called.” He finally faced her. “I thought to give you a surprise.”

She might have dazed out a little, but he did not give her a chance to explain.

“I’m sorry to have upset you—”

She chuckled. This time, she caught him by surprise. “Sorry. I ruined it, didn’t I?” 

As always, he did not answer her. 

She was not sure if he knew this, that she never intended to give him a hard time, even from the day they met and became partners. 

Life itself was difficult enough. She did not need to or have the time and energy to invest in such nonsense. 

“I’m happy.” She smiled. She hoped that it looked like a smile. “Really.” 

Was that not convincing enough?

His lips were so close to curl before he dropped his head. “Actually, Akira… I’ve been offered a job as an instructor at the TSC.” His eyes drifted. “It pays enough to cover the shelter and the kids’ expenses. I’ll just have to put in a few hours per week. So,” He glanced at her, “you can quit your job.” He just stopped and looked at her. “What do you think?”

That long babbling took her awhile to process. She guessed the caffeine had stopped working long time ago. So, he took the job, and “You want me to quit my job?” That was probably not the point.

His back pricked. “I… I don’t mean to interfere with your life.”

Yeah, life. There was hardly any. With the job she had now, she could barely remember who she was.

She rose to her feet. For some reason, he felt that he had to speed up his explanation. “You have been working very hard and I just—”

It was quiet again. Akira could get used to that. 

Those years without him, she had accepted that she was the odd one. She picked up diplomatic speech and compromised. Everything she did was just so that she would not be left out again. 

But that kiss was not it. 

She slowly opened her eyes and pulled away just enough to see his face better.

He was dazed. Perhaps he had hit his head when she knocked him down earlier?

Could anyone blame her though? It was frustrating enough to have fallen in love with a giant. She had to take any chance she had to reach him.

If he decided to defend himself, that was probably the time to do so.

That was it. If he had nothing else to say…

She leaned down and took his mouth. He did not protest. Instead, he pushed his tongue into her. Taken aback at first, she quickly relinquished any control she had to him.

She was pressing onto his chest until he made her a mere feather when he turned them over.

She did not know how he managed to be on all four and yet leaning so close to her. Her brain could not think. 

If he slipped or yielded, his weight alone could collapse her lungs, but that was one risk she was willing to bear. 

Her hands raked through the hair behind his ears and swam down to his shoulder blades. His lips sealed her mouth tightly, not allowing the slightest seam between them.

There was nothing rational to what they were doing. They were no longer some ghoul investigators. They did not need to think of the repercussions.

In fact, she started to like that part of him, when there was nothing holding him back. Behind that bright and shining light, Koutarou Amon was just a mortal man.

Until his lips detached from hers.

She stared at him as he pushed himself up. She should have known that would happen… “Am I that unappealing?”

Her question again struck him. “I—”

“Relax. It’s just a joke.” It was not funny, but it helped clear the air. 

“Sorry, Akira. I don’t think we should rush this.”

She lost count of how many times he had apologized to her. It was either she had been too tired to keep count or that she had already given up. “You and your righteousness...”

He did not say anything. He probably was going to just let her retaliate him with insults. She wanted none of those.

She just wondered what she did to hit that jackpot, for finding a man who would reject a woman. “I’ll wait.” That was all she did to salvage that puny pride which remained in her. 

His eyes followed her as she stood up.

Looking down to him, she kind of understood his perspective of wanting to be a savior. 

Or at least she tried.

“Just… don’t make me wait too long.” There was no guarantee how long she would last. It was hard to embrace the Sun when she was small and flammable.

She probably kept on burning until nothing was left of her.

“Let’s go.” She went to the door. “We have to get Chibi and Yuya.”

“Right.” He got up and followed her.

Walking with him side by side, she looked up to him. Her neck still hurt every time she had to look up like that. Of all the men she could find, why did she have to choose him?

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just thinking about a fool, about one hundred and ninety one centimeter tall.” Though she was a bigger fool, he did not need to know that.

She covered her mouth when she saw his face blacken and still. It was hard to keep her voice down while her stomach convulsed against her.

She blinked then looked at him again. 

Was that the reason?

“What is it this time? Will you stop making fun of me?” He was sulking, but she tried not to laugh.

Instead, she took his hand to make a deal. “Alright.” 

Four years before. Six years after. That was the price for loving Koutarou Amon—her tall guy with a big heart.

Because that big, serious slowpoke was the only one in the world who could make her laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to upgrade the rating, but Amon, the moral police, stopped me.
> 
> Now you understand Akira’s frustration.
> 
> I’ll try again in the future. Perhaps I will have to drug him.
> 
> I believe Akira will help me on this.


	5. A Bridge that Never Burns

_They are coming they are coming they are coming…_

Toes, long and fine, spanned the ground. Red tail waved in sync to his movement. Parked vehicles were his stepping stones. The basilisk raced along the asphalt. 

Nothing stopped him.

_They are coming they are coming they are coming…_

Blinding rays from the sky chased after the target in zigzag. Even at speed of light, it caught a glimpse of his whip-like tail.

At most.

 _“Urie, don’t let him get away.”_ The earpiece hissed.

Urie gritted his teeth. Why the hell did Marude send Sasaki to watch his back? 

_“He’s picking up speed.”_

“Shut up.” Urie pulled out Ginkui and jumped off the ledge. While he appreciated Sasaki’s concern, his former mentor’s voice irritated his ears. “Saiko, where are you?” He had Saiko to thank for. If the latter had not pulled off the disguise, that child killer would have stayed incognito forever.

_“I… I am… running the best I can.”_

Urie resisted to press further. Physical intensive activity was never her forte.

For months Urie had been tracking that ghoul. He was not going to let him live another day. 

If Saiko could not make it in time… 

“Saiko, meet me at Charlie.”

_“Urie—”_

“I know what I’m doing, Sasaki.” From that moment on, he did not hear from Sasaki again. One way or another, Sasaki had to accept that his hatchlings had grown feathers and could hunt on their own. 

His ear welcomed the hard earned peace. As he fully focused on the chase, the rusty smell of blood too became more pungent. 

Which means...

The Meat Grinder stood in awe at the majesty of red brick walls. That venue was perfect, specially chosen...

...to bury a ghoul. 

“Gotcha.” Urie threw his arm up. Ginkui disappeared in his hand. 

Blood spurted from an invisible gash, right across the ghoul’s chest.

“Saiko.”

A gigantic rock hailed from heaven, crushing the ghoul in a single punch.

Urie went closer. His eyes narrowed on the blood pooling out under Saiko’s kagune. He could have done it alone, but he never forgot the meaning of teamwork. 

Now Sasaki would have nothing to say.

_“Uri… something’s wrong.”_

Saiko’s kagune began to quiver. The free flowing blood beneath lost its fluidity and agglomerated to individual strings.

“Regeneration?” Urie stepped back. The ground that touched the blood sprouted shoots of red stems. The growth accelerated to make mature vines, they immediately lashed out. “What the hell?” Before he knew it, he was running for his life.

The rest of the red vines joined and bound together until a humanoid took shape. He guffawed. “You’re here to catch me.” The ghoul touched the trapped kagune with his hands. Vines sprouted from all his digits and crawled up the rocky kagune. “I’m not going back.”

_“No!”_

“Saiko, withdraw now.”

_“Can’t do… It’s pulling me in.”_

Urie kicked against the brick wall and catapulted himself into mid-air. With a quick swirl to his back, he looked down.

The red vine bound and constricted around the rock-like kagune until it cracked. 

_“Ah!”_

“I told you I’m not going back!” The ghoul widened his grin at the captured peacekeeper in his grasp, unaware of three sharp spearheads coming hot at him and pierced through his chest.

Deadlock unwound. Red vines retracted. 

Urie landed before the humanoid. Between them was Sasaki.

“Now! Saiko!” Sasaki cried out.

Saiko stayed afloat until gravity kicked in. Free falling, she bursted from her back dozens of long spears, which raced against each other to the ground.

One after the other, the kagune jabbed and went through the ghoul, skewering him from top to toe.

Arms swung down and dangled by his sides. To any lifeform, that was the signal of something breathing his last.

“Maman!” With Saiko’s touchdown, the team of three reassembled.

Watching his former subordinates flanking him, Sasaki could not contain the smile on his face. “Well, isn’t that nostalgic?”

“Not at all.” This time, Urie said it purely to pop Sasaki’s bubble.

Saiko retracted her kagune. The trio watched the skewered meat plummet onto the pavement. They did not dare to bat their eyes.

Even a slight twitch was enough to make their chest explode.

They should have just cut the ghoul into half.

The ghoul arched himself. His body was twisting and contorting at angles which no human could achieve.

While Urie tightened his grip on Ginkui, a drone flooded Sasaki’s ears. 

That low rhythmic thud lapped at high speed, too soft to be deciphered at first, until Sasaki picked up the noise of choppy air.

Sasaki blinked his eyes and turned around.

“Haise.” The transmission hissed.

“Everyone! Get down!” Sasaki roared.

A short fizz followed by a zip over their heads. The trio jumped just in time before a thunder struck. Pure light channeled from earth to heaven as it pierced through the sky. Such beauty lasted no longer than a few seconds.

The sky cleared itself as the clouds receded to give way to the full bright moon.

Their ears buzzed. The ground shook as they pushed themselves up. Before they could steady themselves, the shadow of a small whale loomed over them. The peacekeepers brought their arms up to block the unruly turbulence, but their effort was futile.

Sasaki forced his eyes open and looked up. The deafening swoop entered their territory. It continued to hover over them. 

  
  
  


“What in the world was that?” Marude’s fist rapped the control panel. “Answer me, Mado!” A laugh mocked him.

“Why do you sound surprised, Director?” Akira folded her arms, the bluetooth in her ear blinked. “As written in the contract, Matsuoka Corporation has full authority over the Meat Grinder.” 

“I don’t give a damn about that ghoul! My peacekeepers—your former team—were on the ground when you and your American toy blasted a sinkhole in our city. You could have gotten them killed!”

“You are right.” Akira paused to relent to the rattling blades. She turned to the Apache as it surfaced from the horizon, just ten feet away from where she stood. “The high explosives packed in the CRc rocket was an overkill.” With her fingertips, she combed along her hairline, stopped by her ear to keep her bangs from getting in her eyes. As the Apache climbed higher, the long rope that tethered to the Apache’s belly pulled up a net full of red blobs. “However, please understand that we are a private entity. Unlike TSC which is backed by the government, we have shareholders to please…”

“Listen, Mado! I don’t care what kind of deal the Prime Minister had cut with Matsuoka. The TSC will not send anymore peacekeepers. If I am to be martyred for going against the Prime Minister, so be it!” Marude pulled the earpiece off his ear and threw it aside. “Damn those military contractors!” He was wrong about Akira. After all, that woman was just as crazy as her father.

After a sigh, Akira looked up to the sky. That black. That darkness. It suited her. It had not even been a year, and she had pretty much burnt every single bridge in her life.

She was only afraid that Marude might not be her last.

“Akira!”

Akira looked back. The wandering ray from the Apache gave a better view to where she was looking.

Face soiled with soot. The sleeves ripped with tiny holes here and there. Kaneki spread his arms like an eagle’s wings. “For old times’ sake.” 

He had returned to be Ken Kaneki, the leader of the United Front, someone’s husband and father, and even a ghoul.

But those knitted brows and pouted lips of a child were all he was to her now.

Akira huffed out. She had been wrong all along.

There was one bridge that would never burn.

The name was Haise Sasaki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s very sad to see Kaneki, after his mother’s abuse, craving for a mother’s love and never be filled until Akira’s appearance.
> 
> But I think Akira depended on Kaneki a lot more than she knew, especially after she lost Amon and Takizawa. With Kaneki under her, she had reasons to continue fighting.
> 
> Let me know what you think. Bye for now!


	6. The Key Kishou Arima Left Behind

“You are so cruel, Akira.” Kaneki’s cheeks instantly turned into a pufferfish. “Could you not let us know that you are back in town?”

Marude mentioned those who left the CCG had been elusive. Akira would be one of them.

“Sorry about that,” Akira replied. “I was caught up with work.”

“Actually, you came back at the right time. TSC is still looking for more instructors.” 

Akira smirked. “Hate to break it to you. Try your luck with those who have not stepped on Director Marude’s toes. They might help.” She walked away, leaving. 

“Don’t worry about the director.” Kaneki jogged, then slowed to a walk to keep abreast with her. “He’s not a person who holds grudges. Let me talk to him.” 

“Appreciate the offer, but I’m done fighting.”

“It’s teaching.”

“It’s the same if it involves ghoul.”

“Then what are you doing now?”

“I’ve resigned. Yesterday was supposed to be my last day.”

“Great! The job is yours.”

“Haise.” She stopped abruptly, a few flights of stairs below, and swirled to face him. Her stern glare was no match to that radiant smile. 

He might never understand why everyone had been keeping their distance as if those who stayed behind were some kind of highly contagious disease. He only knew that once he caught one, he would not let her go that easily.

The reason was more than to find TSC a competent instructor. 

His smile wore off. He finally saw that he would need more than just his child-like optimism to convince his former mentor. “Can you not do it for me?” 

He knew very well that his days back in the CCG were only an illusion, something he made up to fill up that emptiness he had. The family he made with Touka filled that hole, but that hole returned sometimes.

The love and care he felt back then... They had to be real.

“I wish I could help, but TSC is not where I want to be.”

He cast his eyes down. Her message was clear enough. “Is it because of Ken Kaneki?” He never planned to make it sound bitter.

Her brows raised.

“I still see him…” Kaneki turned to the metal rail. His hands squeezed it. “Arima.” He shivered when the breeze caressed his face. The wind stopped, but the twitch on his shoulders persisted. In fact, it became worse.

He regretted bringing the topic up after so many years keeping that secret well. He even swore to die with it. Why then? Why now? “Akira, actually…” 

Watching Kaneki’s back, Akira chose to remain silent. She then closed her eyes.

“That day at Cochlea, I—”

“I know.”

Kaneki swirled around. His widened eyes stared at her.

“You didn’t kill him.” Her eyes reopened. “No matter what people had said, I should have known. You couldn’t have done it.” 

She watched his cheeks getting wet. The dirt on his face streaked, following the trails of his tears. 

“What I said that time...” She breathed out. “I just felt like I had to salvage anything that I could recognize, be it something from the CCG, or Haise Sasaki.” She grabbed her arm and looked up to the sky emitting its first light. “The fact that I don’t know Ken Kaneki... It scared me.”

“I’d told you, Akira.” Kaneki clenched his fists. “I haven’t changed.”

He froze when she stepped up to him. “I see that now.” Her thumb rubbed away the tears under his eye. “Sorry, Haise. I didn’t know that you are still carrying that burden after all these years.”

It was not just her. What Arima pinned on Kaneki’s shoulders was too heavy. It was unfair.

“Losing Special Class Arima hurt you just as much as it hurt me, but you are the one who suffers the most. Instead of supporting you as I should have done, I let fear cloud my judgment and rejected you. Please forgive me.”

Looking into her eyes that were laden with sorrow, he wondered, “Are you happy?”

She blinked.

“Six years… That’s quite long. Have you found what you are looking for?”

The Akira he knew was a prisoner to an invisible chain. It weighed on her, binding and tethering her at one place. Even when she smiled, it had always been brief, as if she did not have the strength to keep it.

“Not yet, but...” She let out a smile. “I’m getting there.”

He knew he was staring, because he had never seen a face glow like the sun next to them. Even the dark circles around her eyes failed to obscure that radiance.

That woman standing before him was someone he never knew. What happened to those six years?

“Haise?”

_ TSC is not where I want to be. _

“I see.” He grinned all of the sudden. It was never about him being Ken Kaneki. She merely found where she belonged. “Akira—”

The ringtone from his side pocket broke their conversation. Kaneki picked up the call, held on the phone, and paused there. “Thanks.” He muttered, before putting his phone away. “Akira… come visit your grandchildren sometime.” 

She crossed her arms. “Didn’t I say—”

“Not the Quinx. I mean Ichika and Hiro.”

“Right. Ichika, your daughter. But who is Hiro?”

“Touka just gave birth. It’s a boy.” He had always wanted to share that joy with her. His son happened to have better timing.

If becoming an instructor was too much to ask, what about a nod or a smile, anything that showed she was happy for him?

Her face softened eventually, but she did not congratulate him, not even a word.

Once again, she turned her back against him.

“Akira?”

“I’ll stop by, maybe.” 

He stood there. Mind went blank. Eyes followed her down the stairs. 

Eventually, his heart bloomed. Face lit up with a broad smile across his face. “This Saturday at Anteiku! I’ll make you curry!” Kaneki shouted. “And bring Amon too!”

She neither stopped nor turned. Instead, she flagged her hand up. “Special Class Arima… I finally see why you chose him.” She murmured.

Arima did not give Kaneki a burden. He gave Kaneki a key, which the latter used to turn the world that was full of tragedies into a paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really think Arima would have been proud of what Kaneki had become.


	7. Enter the Grizzly

The robotic arm squeaked as it rotated hundred degrees counterclockwise to install a circuit board into the AH-64D, which was one out of five in the hangar. High decibel squeal came from an electric drill, far right corner. Looked like the mechanics were still looking for clues on why the rotor overheated randomly.

Akira made a beeline through the bustling crew, almost got elbowed by one of them when he took an unexpected turn. 

“Sorry.” Something brief before she dashed off. Eyes scanning around for a certain plump guy in white coat. 

She raised her arm and turned her wrist. The hands on her watch almost joined below twelve. Had she not gotten caught by the management to standby for a press conference, she would have thrown in the report and left that place an hour ago.

“What did you do to my rocket?!”

Akira skidded to a stop. That was definitely the howl of their Chief Scientist. 

She sighed, braced herself, before pivoted on her heels.

The deafening noise died, except the robots which continued to function. All living organisms in that hangar stopped everything they were doing. 

Akira blinked. The man in white coat was too far away from her, and he was not looking at her. The crew was blocking whoever that was talking to the chief.

“Chief Himura, I don’t think the company needs to explain to you how the assets are used.” Akira heard another voice as she moved closer.

“It was already a risk when we didn’t have the time to pilot test it. And you just thought it was a good idea to make a cocktail of CRc bomb? If you are such a smart ass, why is the company keeping a team of two hundred PhDs? You might be better off doing everything yourself.”

Akira watched the puffy face all reddened. 

The man in the suit, however, remained unprovoked. “I guess you have not told him, Mado.”

Her back pricked.

“What did you just say?” Himura knitted his brows. He finally noticed Akira, who was only five steps away from them.

Akira narrowed her eyes and stepped up to the man in suit. “Yamada, that is enough. You had what you wanted. Now leave.”

Yamada took some time returning the stare to Himura, before he angled himself and lowered his eyes to the shorter woman. “For the record, I don’t take orders from you, Mado.”

It was her last day. There was no reason to dirty her hands for a douchebag. So she watched him leave.

“Akira! How could you?” The chief scientist was blowing his top. “I trusted you.”

Akira went to Himura and grabbed his arm. The latter swung her hand away.

“I had it under control, okay?”

“Save it, Mado!” 

“They are going to make a show with or without us. One of us had to be onboard to minimize the damage.”

“You could have told me!”

“You wouldn’t have agreed.”

“I’m sure as hell—Oh, you are right.” Himura’s temper dissipated instantly and fell back to his analytical mode. “No! No! No!” He threw his hands up, almost to cover his ears. “I’m not going to forgive you for this. Not this time.” He stomped back to his office while Akira followed along.

“It’s okay, Himura.” She watched the door flung open and she slipped in right before it closed. “You can vent your anger on me.” 

Himura knew too well to take her words literally. Thanks to her training, he had picked up some tricks to decode her message.

That slight curl on her lips; her eyes that narrowed on him—Himura had never seen a coyote that up close. “I hate you!” He jumped over a stack of files and zigzagged around the boxes to his desk.

“That’s an improvement.” Her olfactory picked up the sweet aroma. Her head turned. Eyes staring at a coffee pot sitting just right beside the door. “Compared to the first time we met.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was an accident?” Himura hands shook in sync as if he was chopping some invisible meat. “The board meeting was a warzone. I couldn’t have known—Hey!” He finally saw what she was doing. “You are here just for the coffee, aren’t you?”

Akira smirked. The taste that lingered in her mouth was her victory.

Himura pushed his glasses up and squinted at her. “Woman, you really look like crap.” 

She did not really know what he meant by ‘crap’, because how she looked had not been her concern since a long time ago. The fact that Himura only dropped that comment now might just be his way to get to her. 

Or he might not be seeing clearly with his glasses slipped to the tip of his nose. But who cared about the details anyway?

Himura, on the other hand, refused to let her off the hook. “How many cups already?” He glanced at the paper cup in her hand. “Ten?”

“Five.” She chugged the black liquid down her throat and let out a satisfying breath. “They were so little and won’t even fill your mug.” She squinted through the gap between her index finger and thumb.

“There's a reason it is called espresso.” Himura emphasized the last word. “And you always get yourself double-shot.”

She squeezed the cup and threw it into the metal trash can behind Himura. “Last one just to get me through the report.”

“You’re always ‘last one’. Do you want to O.D. over some caffeine?” He picked up a pen and clipboard and started flipping the papers. “That’s a pretty lame reason to die.”

“Don’t worry. It’s my last day.” Akira waved the lanyard around her neck. “You won’t see me again after I turn this in to HR in a couple of hours.”

Himura dropped his hands. The clipboard and pen struck the desk. He was staring at her again.

“Why?” The cogs in her head turned as she tried to figure what else she did to earn that disapproving look. 

“I’m going to miss you, you know?” 

That was what Akira liked about Himura. Although the brain was a short fuse at times, he often forgot what he had been upset with within minutes. Well, that was if that person spoke his language. 

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else to laser beam. How about Yamada?”

Himura arched his brow. “You know what? I really might.” He turned to the windows where he could see the chopper, and opened it. “IF ANYONE TRIES TO TOUCH MY PROTOTYPE AGAIN, I’LL FREAKING LASER BEAM HIM TO ASHES. YOU HEAR ME?!!” Himura slammed the window close. It was a miracle the glass did not break at all.

Endowed with a serious pair of lungs, Himura earned himself the nickname—Grizzly, which supposedly fit his bodysize, bushy brown beard, and hairy arms. Perhaps that was one of the reasons the management did not replace him, no matter how much they did not like him. 

Akira slowly opened her shut eye. She would never get used to that roar.

“Sorry.” Himura huffed and puffed, both hands at his waist. “I should pick up yoga.”

“You do that.” Though she doubted it would help.

“So this is it, huh? Sure you are not going to miss it?” He turned and gazed at the Apaches again. “Those babies are kind of yours.”

Akira too followed, admiring the machines. “Didn’t you say you have full ownership?”

Himura rolled his eyes. “You are not adorable at all. Remind me: how you got yourself a boyfriend?” He sat down.

“He thinks I’m cute and worth protecting.” She never even paused or thought twice before she said it. It was the truth. Well, at least the last part of it.

Truth or not, it meant nothing to Himura besides making him gag. “Enough. Enough of this.” His palm was waving at her frantically.

Himura’s cooperative yet dramatized responses would be something Akira missed most when she left. “Goodbye, Himura.” She put up her best smile, out of respect to the only friend she had in that dog-eat-dog company. “It’s been a pleasure.” 

“Akira…” Himura reached out his hand. “Keep in touch, okay?”

“Will do.” Their hands joined in a firm grip. “By the way, I was joking about laser-beaming Yamada.”

“Just get out of here, will you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never thought I would miss Akira’s jokes/sarcasm so much.
> 
> She literally erased herself after losing Amon and Takizawa. Maybe jokes and nonsense reminded her of them.
> 
> And thanks for all the comments. Hope this chapter cheers you.


	8. I’m Coming Home

“This is the latest counter-ghoul weapon.”

The scene zoomed in on the Apache’s pylons. The rocket launched off.

“Pphewwffffuuuu!”

Chibi looked up at the tv screen. The explosion cloud mirrored on her glittering eyes, which grew bigger and bigger with her opened mouth.

“The CRc rocket fires at three thousand feet per second, ten thousand yards away, instantly pulverises TSC most wanted—the Meat Grinder.”

The same scene repeated on the Thirteen Ward’s giant tv screens at several angles.

“It’s Matsuoka’s mission and vision to keep Japan safe,” said a man sitting behind a long table. 

“Mama!” She blurted. “Mama! Mama! Mama!”

Hikari laid down the pen on the dining table, rose from the chair, and went to the girl. “What are you babbling?” He pressed lightly on the blonde’s skull, flattening the child’s hair. As he turned to look at the tv, his eyes went still, at the same time when Amon slid the paper door open.

“Hikari, did Chibi just swallow another lollipop?” He frowned at both the children, his finger pinching a candy wrapper.

“Akira is on tv.” Hikari blurted. He too was enthralled by the news.

“What?” Amon got behind the kids and watched the news.

Except Yuya, who was contained by the cot, the rest of the children swamped to them. The tv became their sole focus.

“Our country is overrun by ghouls. Law enforcers are spreading thin. With Avalon, our latest defense system, the renegade ghouls or orphans will think twice before they attack. Sorry to say, no one knows how to protect humanity better than us human.”

“Mama! Mama!” Chibi sprang up from the floor. Her finger pointed at the screen.

Amon already noticed the woman standing far left, who remained quiet throughout the interview.

“No way!” “It’s really Akira!” Emily, the twelve-year-old, and Shinji, who just celebrated his eighth birthday yesterday, said.

“Cool…” Even Hikari, the most collected among them, could not hide his excitement.

In the end, they were still children.

Hikari glanced behind him. The second time he did that to Amon when he realized the latter’s face was rather bland.

“Chibi.” Amon ducked and grabbed hold of his daughter. “Let me see your mouth.” He gently pried her mouth open. His eyes were on Chibi’s lower molars, but he saw only the pallid face that appeared on the tv. 

Amon doubted that it was due to the angle of the camera.

“A… A…” The girl could not make proper words with Amon’s thumb in her mouth.

“Sorry, Chibi.” He withdrew his hand immediately. “Did Papa hurt you?”

The girl tackled Amon and bound his neck tightly in her arms. 

“Alright.” Amon pried the arms around his neck. He held the girl in place by laying his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t eat anymore candy, okay? Or Mama will be very angry.”

Chibi frowned and nodded her head.

“Good girl.” Amon smiled at his daughter. He stood up. Hands on his waist. “Now, the rest of you,” he scanned the little humans, “finish your homework.”

They all cried foul, as expected. Eventually, the children dragged themselves back to the tables.

“I’ll be going to the Academy in an hour. You’ll be okay with the kids?”

“What will you do... if I’m not?”

Amon sighed. Teenagers…

Amon walked across the common area. His feet stopped midway. Eyes wandered to the corded phone sitting on top of the cabinet.

_Don’t lose sight of the person beside you._

He reached for the handset.

It was time to make the decision.

  
  
  


_AH-64DJP: Matsuoka Corporation’s latest counter-ghoul weapon. Unlike the American model, the AH-64D, the JP variant has higher payload capacity by a tonne, but at only two percent penalty on maximum speed loss, thanks to the more efficient Matsuoka proprietary rotor. Mounted with Avalon System—the artificial intelligence that controls the AH-64DJP—the helicopter can be dispatched anytime and anywhere to neutralize ghouls that threaten human lives|||_

Akira’s fingers stopped abruptly. Eyes stared at the cursor on the monitor before watching the muted tv above her monitors. It was replaying the CRc rocket launching off from the Apache.

Latest counter-ghoul weapon? Akira scoffed. That was a pretty name for some scrap metals which Matsuoka bought from the army. The company paid not even a tenth of what those Japan-assembled Apaches should have cost, yet the Defense Minister had not stopped hailing Matsuoka as Japan’s savior ever since.

A bleep brought her eyes to her left monitor. Matsuoka’s stock price just soared again.

No surprise.

Both hands thrust against the edge of her desk. The wheels beneath her chair rolled back. Akira stood up and turned to the wall glass behind her. 

At level thirty-five, she was only one floor below the CEO of Matsuoka Corporation. The day view of Tokyo skyline was equally spectacular as it was at night.

So said the marketing material of Matsuoka Tower. 

To someone who was trapped there for an average of twelve hours per day, however, that place was merely a glorified cage made of glass. 

Akira folded her arms. For that cage, just how much of herself had she thrown away?

She stopped herself at that point and returned to her seat. There were nineteen hungry stomachs back in the rural town of Shizuoka. The one-off check, which would only come after she submitted the report, would be enough to support twenty one of them for five years. 

Her eyes remained on the monitor, her index finger scrolling the wheel on the mouse. 

Avalon System—while still at the early phase—had control of all the sensitive information and activities, including personal data, real-time surveillance, military defense, and you-name-it. 

Welcome to the twenty-first century, where privacy statements were just a scam for capitalists to steal. 

Yet, there was no picture of the Meat Grinder anywhere in the database.

An irony? More like an anomaly.

She had read TSC’s investigation reports on that case. Dozens of children abducted across the nation, where the first case happened almost three years ago. There was no eyewitness. The missing children cases were nothing out of the ordinary and so they had been sitting cold in the police department’s archive.

Until the body parts were found.

Akira toggled the pictures taken from the crime scenes. Marude would explode if he knew she had access to TSC’s database.

Anyway…

There were even more questions raised by the crime scenes alone. Would a ghoul, which craved humans as food, make such a waste? Why children, of all the choices he could have had? Was it purely a carnal need, or some kind of declaration? If it was the latter, what was he trying to achieve? These questions were just the tip of an iceberg.

Had Yonebayashi not put herself as bait, the Meat Grinder might have never appeared.

Akira logged into Avalon. By now, the Meat Grinder should have arrived at the research facility at Hokkaido.

_Access Denied_

>>|||

Dead end? Maybe not. 

Ghouls were reclusive. But as long as they were living on planet Earth, they would be leaving traces and footprints—something big data would never miss. 

She signed out of Avalon and connected to the grid computers. With an eye squinting, the other widened, she typed away. 

That rush of adrenaline was just the drug she needed to stay awake. It was much more effective than the espressos she had been having.

But not enough.

First: she had to bypass Avalon to get access to the system. Himura should have placed a backdoor somewhere. Second: if she needed an answer fast, she had to narrow down the search. That was when her instinct came in handy.

The question remained: could she handle the truth?

_Submit job? [Y/n]: |||_

Her fingers were touching the ‘Enter’ key, yet she could not get the courage to push it.

It was almost four in the afternoon—her last day at Matsuoka. What was she trying to achieve?

Her hands quivered at that question. She snatched her wrist and breathed laboriously. 

It was bad. It was very bad. 

Himura could not be right about the caffeine, could he?

Her heart leapt, but this time it was not the caffeine.

Akira snatched the vibrating phone next to the keyboard. The caller ID was from Shizuoka. “Hello?”

_“Akira?”_

Her eyes widened. Back pricked. “Amon?”

_“Am I interrupting you?”_

She sighed and closed her eyes. “It’s okay. I happen to need the break.”

_“You sound exhausted.”_

She opened her eyes again, could not refute what he just said, because it was true. After hearing him say it, it became even worse.

_“Don’t push yourself, okay?”_

“Are the children all right?” The pep talk was great. She just could not afford to do that now. What good was there if she started crying to him over the phone? 

_“Yeah, they have never been better...”_ Whenever Amon talked about the children, he could go on and on.

She could feel. He really loved them a lot.

The conversation expectedly turned into a monolog. She did not stop him, because his voice was just what she needed. 

_“Are you still there?”_

“Yeah. Still here.” It was not like she could go anywhere.

_“Shall we meet tomorrow?”_

She blinked, wondering if she heard him right. There was just too much caffeine in her system. It might be messing with her brain. “Is it a date?” 

He choked at her question, and could not stop coughing. 

They probably had come to the realization years ago that they were such a dysfunctional couple. They were constantly at odds with each other. Nothing seemed to go well between the two of them.

 _“Mmm.”_ At least it did not take him years to come to that conclusion. He seemed to have learnt.

“But tomorrow is a little—”

_“It’s okay. I know that you are busy.”_

“Koutarou Amon…” 

He fell silent.

“I was going to say: I can meet you on Friday. Is three okay for you?” For a moment, she thought she lost him in those short few seconds.

_“Three sounds great. Same place?”_

“Same place. And, Amon?”

_“Yes?”_

“I love you.” She hung up. Like him, she too had learnt a thing or two in that relationship. What she had been doing right was that she should never leave anything to chance. 

Akira toggled the windows on her screen and stopped at the draft she had been working on. Her hands returned to the keyboard, mind imagining a nervous and blushing face, which was far more interesting than the Meat Grinder case.

_Amon._

_Children._

_Just wait a little while._

_I’m coming home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those far away from home.


	9. Let the War Begin

Sitting on the floor with his legs folded in a meditating position, Kaneki fixed his eyes on the tranquil face. With the Meat Grinder case closed, he could finally spend more time with his family.

Kaneki leaned forward to draw away the purplish bangs off Touka’s eye, careful not to disturb the newborn sleeping next to her. According to Yomo, the birth had gone smoother than they had expected. Still, the process remained taxing to a mother’s body.

A tiny yawn drew Kaneki’s eyes away and onto his son, who soon fell back to sleep. Kaneki remembered his daughter had the same thin layer of blue hair. If the child picked up his sister’s trait, that color should fade before he experienced his third Spring.

A gentle rustle behind him brought a narrow ray into the dark room. Kaneki twisted to look behind. 

Standing behind the door, his daughter was peeking at him.

Without a word, Kaneki stood up to tend to his daughter. He shut the door behind as slowly as possible before getting the girl to the living area.

“What is it?” He crouched before the girl.

“There’s someone strange.” The girl frowned.

“Where?”

The girl pointed him to the kitchen. There was no one.

Kaneki stood up. He walked to the sink and peered through the windows. His eyes narrowed at the empty street of their neighborhood. Behind the base of a lamppost, a dark fringe flaunted with the breeze.

He went back to his daughter and crouched before her. Smiling, he gently squeezed her shoulders. “Papa has to go out for a while. Can I leave your mother and brother to you?”

“Mmm!” The girl nodded her head with a wide grin.

“Good girl.” Kaneki ruffled her hair as he stood up. The swirl to the door erased the smile he had. His thumb hooked onto the back of his index finger and snapped it.

Kaneki took his time to get to the street. If that stranger valued his life, he should appreciate the opportunity given to him and flee.

But there were always fools who thought to try their luck.

The man never moved an inch from where Kaneki last saw him. Instead, he looked Kaneki in the eye and laughed. “How did she know? Was it my scent?”

An eye dyed in black. The pupils glowed red. “Those questions should be the least of your concerns.” The kagune fanned out behind Kaneki’s waist. “It’s a hassle if I go back with bloodstain. I guess I’ll just have to be more careful—” 

The tentacles lunged at the man’s face, but the blade of his sword came between them to shun the strike. “I heard she can ingest human food.” He leapt, right before Kaneki’s tentacles smashed the brick wall next to where he stood. “Did she inherit Rize’s kakuhou, or her mother’s?”

“I’ll tear your mouth!” The tentacles shot out.

The stranger ducked left and right. “Why? Why? You should be proud of having such a gifted child.” The stranger missed one, just behind him, but the kagune that slipped out of his sleeve saved him. “Just think about her potential—” Mouth opened, he spit out blood. The rest came from his wound and splattered onto the floor. “Right… that is more like the One-Eyed King.”

“You’ve dirtied my hand on my son’s birthday.” Kaneki threw his blood-soaked hand, sprinkling blood droplets onto the ground. He snapped his head at his opponent. “Now I have to kill you.”

The stranger grinned. “This is not about you or me, Ken Kaneki.” He wiped away the blood on his lips with the back of his hand. “Our world is coming to an end. Your children have the answer to reverse that process.”

A clean cut through the neck, the stranger’s head dropped onto the road and rolled along. “We are not the only one. You can’t protect them forev—” A squeak was the last sound the stranger made. 

Kaneki pulled out and retracted his kagune. He stepped closer to assess the hole he punctured on the skull. He hated bugs. Not only were they annoying, bugs always left a mess behind whenever they died.

And there were always more of them coming.

Kaneki took out his phone and dialed a number.

_ “Tokyo Security Committee. Have you witnessed a ghoul activity?” _

“This is Ken Kaneki. I have a message for Director Marude—” He glared at the blinking red LED on the dead man’s palm. That was when Kaneki realized he was standing right next to it.

_ Boom! _

_ “Hello? Hello? What’s happened? Are you all right?” _

Groaning, Kaneki pushed himself up. His back stung like hell. He could not see how bad it was, but it felt like he had been skinned.

His temperature surged to burning, like the blaze behind him. That blast had thwarted everything he did to keep his wife and baby sleeping.

_ “Help is on the way. Please hang on!” _

Kaneki picked up the phone. “Tell the Director: V is here.” He stood up. The fuming flame glimmered on his eyes. “This is war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it’s about Kaneki’s children, I’m on V’s side.
> 
> The thought of having ghoul’s power and still be able to take normal food. If they are not aging like the half-human, they might be the ideal superhuman.


	10. A Bad Streak

“Good work.” Fingers interlaced, legs crossed, the man leaned back. His chair did not emit as much as a creak. That was a hundred grand well spent for a person who believed he would be stuck in that chair for the rest of his life.

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” said Akira. “It was all Dr. Himura and his team.” 

“Their contribution will be recognized. No doubt.” Johnson turned away from the stock monitor and faced Akira squarely. 

Many who had heard about Johnson but met him for the first time were surprised to find an Asian-face at the helm. Although stereotyping was at fault, having a western family name in Japan reinforced that idea. 

“With the orders kept pouring in, the board is more than pleased.” Johnson grinned. “If you would reconsider your decision… Matsuoka could always use your capability. Just say the word. Whatever you wish will be granted.”

And be squeezed dry later? No— “Thank you for the offer. With such generosity, you will find someone far more superior.” Her hands clasped. Both feet aligned side by side. She had put in enough act. Time to exit the stage. “If there is nothing else…” She turned on her heel. 

“Are you sure about that?”

Akira halted.

Johnson stood up. “You are not that naive to think that you can just walk away after learning so many secrets, are you?” He had a point. Everything had been going too easy to be real. In this world—the great empire of Matsuoka—there was always a cache. 

“I have handed in my resignation and served the notice period. You have no right to hold me.” 

“Really?”

She heard a strike on a key.

“How about espionage?”

That got her attention.

As soon as she turned around, Johnson trained his monitor at her. “Look familiar?”

Akira widened her eyes at the screen. The organization of the desktop, the opened windows—they were cloned off her workstation. The only alien was the progress bar, which had just reached a hundred percent. “I did not submit that job!” She glowered.

“Your code. Your account.” Johnson held his chin and leered. “Look at that speed. You’ve used Himura’s neural network?”

Akira slammed her palms on the cherry-wood desk. Johnson was lucky that she had not been a ghoul. Else, that fancy antique was going to suffer. 

A buzz nudged her side and distracted her. After stealing a glance at the side pocket on her blazer, she resumed her glare on Johnson.

“You probably should check that,” said Johnson.

Akira did not do it, at least not immediately. Straightened her back, she dipped her hand into the pocket and took out the phone. Had she read it on any other occasion, she could have dismissed the message as an ordinary scam.

“Thought about how to spend those bitcoins?” He gaped out of a sudden. “Oh wait! I forgot that I have called the police. They should be here in five minutes.”

Akira squeezed the phone. Never in her life had she dealt with cryptocurrency, much less setting up an account. But with Johnson’s status and power, he could have gotten his hands on her personal information anywhere. Of course for such trivial matters, Johnson did not have to lift his finger.

That smirk on Johnson’s face. He seemed very confident that he would have her exactly as he wanted. Should she follow his play, her next move would be choosing her cage, glass walls or metal bars.

Instead, she let out a laugh.

Johnson raised his brow. “Having a mental breakdown?”

Mental breakdown? He had no idea. “Mr. Johnson.” Akira looked him in the eye. “Are you sure that is wise?”

“Reporting theft? Most certainly.”

“Corporate espionage is a serious charge. The prosecutor will need more than just your statement to indict me.” Akira narrowed her eyes. “Once an investigation is opened, the police will have access to the server. You and I know what happens next.”

“All our activities are sanctioned by the court.”

“Good luck explaining that to the public. Even if Matsuoka comes out unscathed, would anyone buy a compromised product?” She glanced at the monitor. “The launch of the Avalon System is just around the corner. Hundreds of billions or one dispensable employee? You do the math.” 

Johnson did not answer, but his eyes were aligned to hers. 

It took the beeping of the office phone to break their staring contest.

Johnson loosened the tie around his collar and tapped a button.

_“Sir, Detective Kojiro Inoue from Cyber Crime Unit is here.”_

“Show him in.” His eyes went to Akira. “This isn’t over, Akira Mado.”

To her it was.

Akira gave a silent bow and turned again to the door. Johnson should be grateful that she was not in a mood to gloat. 

About the same time Akira reached the door, Johnson’s secretary, Natori, came in, followed by a man in a grey trench coat. Akira walked past the guest. Her mind was hardwired to getting the hell out of that executive suite that she abandoned greeting the guest. She was never a fan of etiquette from the start.

The moment when both her feet crossed the border between the gray carpet and white marble floor, Akira let out a breath, which she never realized she had been holding. But as soon as she took another step, she tilted, and her arm reached the wall just in time before her shoulder slammed against it. Breath hastened, she waited for the flutter in her chest to pass.

That face-off with Johsnson. It was a close call.

“Are you alright?” Natori had come out. Contrary to Johnson, he was much more amiable, and might be the very last who had retained his humanity in the corporate world—a true irony in the all-human company.

For someone who had faced the T-Owl, she was unsightly. “If you don’t mind...” Akira smiled weakly, eyes looking down the hallway, where the end was an elevator. She had not slept for the past twenty-six hours. Even though her top record was fifty, that was definitely not the right time to try to break the record or tough it out.

  
  
  


_“Jacob went on his journey to his uncle, Laban, who lived in the east. There, he met a shepherdess, Rachel, the beautiful daughter of Laban.”_

_“Ow.”_

_“Did Jacob marry her?”_

_Hikari closed the book and sprang up. “Why didn’t you mention that Laban had another daughter? But Jacob did not like her because her eyes were weak.”_

_All eyes were staring at Hikari, but Amon decided to continue, “He did, but there was a condition…”_

_He had to work for Laban..._

_For fourteen years._

“Ma’am, ma’am?”

Akira opened her eyes. Her fuzzy vision soon cleared itself, and she found herself in the backseat of a cab.

“Ma’am, you have not mentioned the exact address.”

Akira let out a breath, fingers nipping her forehead. She must have drifted off as soon as she got in. Had Natori not insisted on getting a cab for her, she could have driven herself. That would not have boded well.

“Ma’am—”

Akira fell forward. As she was only a few inches away from crashing her head onto the front seat, the seat belt tightened across her chest, pulling her back.

The horn had not stopped blaring since then.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

Akira turned her neck around. “I’m fine.” Despite the preventive measures, Akira could not evade an accident. Still, she was thankful that she was not injured from her bad streak.

“Sorry, ma’am. Please stay here while I go have a look.” The driver released his seat belt, pushed the door open, and went out.

The driver stooped down and later pulled out his phone. His face was like he had seen a ghoul. 

While it was unclear what had happened, there were enough clues.

Someone was hit.

Akira decided to step out of the car to see how she could help. Her arms folded and tucked in tightly, keeping herself from shuddering. Had she not left hastily, she could have retrieved her coat in her office.

The scene had gathered enough spectators from the busy street. They were busy taking pictures and talking among themselves. 

None offered help.

Akira slipped through the crowd, where she saw the driver nervously chanting that the girl had appeared out of nowhere. The girl whom he mentioned was sprawling on the asphalt, just six to eight feet away from the crosswalk, and probably not older than Shinji.

On cue, Akira took a spot with the cab’s headlights facing herself to leverage maximum visibility. There, she knelt down. “Hey, kid!” She tapped hard on the girl’s shoulders. “Can you hear me?” She leaned her ear close to the girl’s mouth and watched the chest rising and falling steadily. At least the airway was clear. 

“Where…” 

With her wrist squeezed hard, Akira snapped her head to the girl’s face. 

“Where are you hiding Nat-chan?” Big eyes rolled down, glaring, red as if dyed in blood.

A shrill came. All hell broke loose. 

Amidst screaming, scattering, confusion, and fear, Akira stayed where she was. It was not out of bravado. She had not been that way for ages. 

Akira willed her rigid neck to turn to her arm, where a head of dark long hair had obscured it. 

Just when she thought she had made friends with her bad streak, she messed up again. There was no pain. Nothing. Only numbness. Perhaps the adrenaline had relieved her from that misery. She did not know.

One thing was sure. She was cold.

Very cold.

As the temperature went deep dive, so was her resistance to an unknown hypnosis. “Maris Stella…” Her cat was trotting to her. She was finally home.

Akira closed her eyes, drifting to sleep. Feeding her cat had to be later, if she was to wake up.

At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, we will go back to Kaneki and Amon.


	11. The Role of a Father

Blue and red light flickered. Sirens blared. The radio hissed from time to time. 

Kaneki scratched the back of his head and looked right and left. He was expecting a couple of investigators. Instead, a convoy of trucks and vans seized the scene, robbing the neighborhood of its peace.

He should have gone to the United Front in the first place. When everything was over, everyone would be talking about a certain ghoul family. No. Everyone would be running away from the ghoul family.

His family.

Kaneki’s eyes suddenly met with a woman’s. Like him, his neighbor, who had been peering out from the second floor balcony, froze. 

Kaneki bobbed his head and smiled, as a good neighbor should have done.

The woman immediately pulled the glass door, shut it, and repeated the same on the curtain.

Kaneki sighed, somewhat hurt. He had anticipated and experienced similar treatment before, but that stubborn old sore would always return to gnaw him whenever he thought it healed.

“Kaneki!” Yusa Arima appeared behind one of the vans. He seemed to be the one leading the case. “The lab’s done processing the scene. Have any officers taken your statement?”

“Yes.” Kaneki cast his eyes down. “Yusa?”

Yusa raised his brows.

“You knew V. Do you have any clue where they are?”

“Can’t say. They had been dormant for many years. With their numbers dwindled, they might have been spending those years recuperating.” Yusa stopped, noticing the creases between Kaneki’s brows. “Kaneki.”

Kaneki looked up to Yusa.

“We’re with you in this. Suzu and Ryuusen will take the watch. You’ll be in safe hands.”

Suzu and Ryuusen. “The new Quinx?”

“You’ve heard?”

“Met them a couple of times at the HQ.” Kaneki looked around. “Didn’t know they were here.”

Yusa smiled. “That’s the whole point, Kaneki.” He was ready to leave. “Oh, I’m not sure if I’ve congratulated you yet.”

“Thanks.” Kaneki smiled. “If you have nothing planned this Saturday, come join us. We’ll be throwing a party.”

“We’ll see. I might need to run some errands.” Yusa turned and left.

_ “Keep an eye on Kaneki?” _

_ “You can’t underestimate what a man will do to protect his family. Last thing we want is to repeat the Dragon War.” _

_ “Mind if I ask… Isn’t Associate Special Class Urie more up to it? _

_ “He’s too close to Kaneki. I need someone unbiased.” _

_ “Yes, Director.” _

Yusa glanced behind before he went under the police tape. Though he did not like the idea of spying on their own, Marude had a point. Under that skin of a benign face, Kaneki was still the formidable One-Eyed King. The last time they saw Kaneki on a rampage, they ended up spending a year cleaning the entire metropolis.

Yusa pressed his earpiece. “Don’t mess up.”

_ “Roger.” _

On second thought, joining the celebration at New Anteiku might be worthwhile.

  
  
  


Sitting alone by the dining table, under the illumination of a pendant light, Kaneki exhaled his helplessness. 

They had been living there for more than a year. Just when things started to look promising, they had to move again. 

But his baby was not even a day old. Should he wait? Perhaps he should, because Touka could use some rest. Even if Touka would compromise, he still had to find a safe place that could accommodate a family of four.

What if V returned tomorrow or even tonight? How was he going to handle it? 

Maybe he should keep watch too. He couldn’t sleep anyway.

He snapped his head up and found an eye too close to himself.

“Touka!” The chair, which he was sitting, tilted backward and left on its two legs. Kaneki almost fell had he not caught the table just in time to pull himself forward. He didn’t notice that she had been standing right in front of him.

“You are doing it again.” Touka straightened her back.

“Do what?”

“Taking all the problems upon yourself.”

Kaneki scratched his cheek, smiling sheepishly. Once again he let her catch him off guard.

How was he going to tell her that they were no longer safe?

“Take off your clothes.” 

“Huh? Now?” His eyes followed her until he was unable to twist his head further.

“No, next year.” Touka had her hands on his sweater and began to pull.

“Wait, wait. Touka!” Kaneki tucked his arms to his chest and squirmed. 

“What the hell are you doing?” She grabbed his arm, putting all her might to pry his arm away. No matter how hard she yanked and pulled, Kaneki just wouldn’t give in. The struggle began to look like sheep shearing. “Come on, Kaneki! Can you just be a man?”

“Touka! You are going to wake up the kids!”

“Then just let me take it off!” 

Just one yank, and off it came, though not in one piece.

“Seriously?” She frowned, holding that torn sweater in her hands. 

“Serious you,” Kaneki muttered, looking away. It really was not his fault.

“Why are you blushing?” 

“I… ah…” 

His wife never had the patience to wait for him to work out his stammer. It wasn’t even a second later that she grew to be disinterested in whatever explanation he might have, and she disappeared into the storage room. 

“Touka?” He watched her return with a first-aid kit, which she later set on the table.

Touka dug into the medicines and rummaged around until she took out an ointment. “Let me take a look at your back.” It was an order and not a request, which Kaneki had learnt not to disobey. 

Just when he had turned his back to her, she rewarded him with a hard slap on the back.

He yelped immediately.

“Now you are the one who is going to wake up the kids.”

Kaneki’s lips zipped to a flatline, as if he was holding in all the bitterness in his mouth. He could never win this. So why bother?

“Thought you won’t feel pain.” Touka spread more ointment on the red skin, which spanned from the shoulders down to his waist. “You’re a grown man. Don’t you know how to take care of yourself?”

Kaneki figured that he should not answer, but he felt that he should really put up his defense. “It’s healing. Just much slower.” He waited for her to continue her lecture. 

She didn’t do it, not right away.

He wondered if she was crying. “Touka—”

“Do what you need to do.”

Kaneki widened his eyes and turned his head.

“Don’t look!”

His back shot up, and he was facing squarely again. “O...okay!” He was as still as an icicle. As the burning on his skin cooled down, it started to get chilly, but he didn’t dare to shudder.

“I can take the kids to stay with Yomo or Ayato,” Touka spoke softly. “We’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Touka…”

“You think it’s V?” 

“I don’t know him, but his fighting style was just like that time when I fought V.”

Touka pressed the hilt of her palm onto Kaneki’s back.

Kaneki gaped, tears welling in his eyes. 

“V or not. I’m not going to let them take my baby.” The more she talked, the harder she rubbed his back. “I would have gone after them myself if I could.” 

He listened to her, clenching his teeth so that he would not make a noise.

She stopped. There came a chill to his back. Just when he shifted to look at her, she had come out from their bedroom. Her hands were holding a fresh piece of long john.

“Just promise me you’ll come back in one piece.” She handed the clothes to him.

Kaneki placed the clothes on the table. His hands reached to hers. Eyes gazed at hers. “Have I told you our son’s name?” That seemed to get her attention. “Hiro. I named him Hiro.”

“Hiro?”

“Like the ocean. I want him to have a life of abundance and be kind.” Kaneki pulled her closer, wrapped his arm around her waist, and leaned his cheek against her soft stomach. With his eyes closed, he breathed out. “I’m not going after them. Let the TSC and United Front do that.” 

That was right. He was not alone anymore. He had friends and family. They would help him find V.

“Our parents left us when we needed them. I’m not going to do that to you and our children.” 

Touka needed her husband. Their children needed their father. That was a role no one else could fill. 

“Hiro Kaneki…” Touka brushed his pale hair. A smile escaped her. “It’s a good name.”

  
  
  


A platoon of troops separated into two neat columns, flanking a door. Some squeezed the semi-automatics in their hands. Beads of sweat hinged along their foreheads, right at the brink of the helmets.

Their leaders exchanged hand signals. The one nearest to the doorknob faced the team, hand holding the doorknob. 

One, two, pull!

The platoon rushed in. One to the right. One to the left. The team split and fanned out. Muzzles swept around for hostile targets. Some pointed up at the balcony. Some covered where they were heading.

They quickly took their respective position in the large hall—the exact moment when a shadow leapt from the balcony. 

The spooked platoon swung their aims behind. One of them jumped the trigger and misfired at their own. The rest shot along the trail left behind by the cloaked enemy, who charged at them with a long rod in his hand pulled back. 

One by one, the rod struck down the platoon and reaped the rest at the legs. 

The black hooded enemy stood tall in their midst. The rod in his hand poked the floor and clinked. He was like a harvester overseeing the freshly scythed cornstalks. 

The platoon had to concede.

“Mission Failed!” A stout man in a grey sweatshirt stepped in. “You are all dead!” He crossed his arms. “Nakamura! How many times do I have to tell you not to point that muzzle at your own? Tajima! Where the hell were you looking? If that were a live round, you would’ve been a swisscheese. Kubo! How could you forget to cover your six? Thanks to you, your platoon has become ghoul’s dinner.”

“Sir,” said one of the cadets, who was wiping away the orange paint on his face. “There’s no way we could defeat a ghoul with just Q bullets. Everyone knows that only a quinque can do the job.”

“It’s possible.” Amon pulled off his hood. “If you aim at the kakuhou.”

The instructor nodded his head. “That’s right. The Q bullet has been significantly improved over the past few years. An outstanding peacekeeper should never use weapon choice as an excuse to get himself pinned.” Hands at his waist, he roared, “Now get back on your feet, take your gear, and give me twenty laps! Move! Move! Move!”

The platoon sprang up and dashed to the exit.

“Thank you, Special Class Amon.” The instructor smiled.

“Please, Instructor Ashikaga, call me Amon.”

“Alright, Amon.” He smirked. They set forth, walking side by side. “Those brats always thought they had conquered the world. You taught them a lesson they will never forget.” He laughed.

“They are still young. With enough training and patience, their full potential will be revealed in due time.” Suzuya was one example.

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

Amon and Ashikaga came to a stop. “Shinohara-san!”

“Yo!” Shinohara raised a five. “Amon.” With the aid of a walking stick, he approached the two. “Ishin! You’re not dead yet?”

Ashikaga snorted. Arms crossed. “There we go again.” He walked past Shinohara. “I have to check on those kids. They're probably slacking off right now.”

Shinohara raised his brow, watching Ashikaga leaving. “That old geezer still can’t take a joke.”

Amon looked at Shinohara. Despite the faded hair color and lack of built, Shinohara was as energetic as ever.

“Amon…” That low growl put Amon to full attention. The way Shinohara grasped Amon’s shoulder and peered into his eyes made Amon’s heart pound.

“Shinohara-san?” Amon was getting very uncomfortable with a face sticking so close to his. He wondered if it was about what he had turned into—a ghoul to be precise.

“How about a drink?” Shinohara grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really happy for Touka and Kaneki. Despite their youth and backgrounds, they are doing so well supporting each other.
> 
> Shinohara is another favorite character of mine. I’d missed him a lot in :Re.


	12. Moving Forward

With a few pushes on the buttons, a paper cup dropped to the dispenser and was then filled with hot liquid.

Along with the other cup in his hand, Amon brought the beverages to Shinohara. “You sure you don’t want some beer?”

Shinohara received the cup. “Coffee’s fine. My wife has been nagging me to cut down the liquor anyway.”

Amon slotted his legs in between the long bench and table, facing Shinohara. 

“This brings back old memories.” Shinohara scanned the darkness behind Amon.

The mess hall was closed at that hour, but they had switched the corner fluorescent lamps on, above where they were sitting. It seemed so peaceful.

“I kind of understand why Harima chose this place to study.” Shinohara knew Amon would stare, so he looked at the latter with a smirk. “What’s with that face? Didn’t think I knew you had been her sentry?”

“You’d never said anything.”

Shinohara shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” 

“Come to think of it. We were quite silly back then.”

“That’s the proof of youth. As long as you grow out of it, those follies aren’t all bad.”

“An epiphany from someone who woke up from a coma?”

“Hey, I was young once, alright?” Shinohara sipped on the coffee and breathed out. “Can’t believe it’s been ten years.”

Amon looked at the varnished table. He could see the faces of his classmates under the dim light. Their voices and the noises they made were still fresh in the back of his head.

Even though they were gone. All killed in the line of duty.

He survived. Even that came at a cost. One that he did not choose. “Shinohara-san. Sorry for not visiting you sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it! I was enjoying my retirement too much to receive any guests anyway.” Shinohara sighed. “Fun fact: if you ever wake up from a coma, don’t look for the old photos you had taken. Because, the faces in those pictures, probably eight out of ten are no longer alive.” 

Amon frowned. That jest Shinohara made failed to mask the pain. Too many had lost their lives. They were comrades and friends. 

They were family.

“Is that why you greeted Instructor Ashikaga that way?”

“No, I was just pulling his leg.” Shinohara’s laughter reverberated in the empty hall.

Amon knew Shinohara did not mean what he said. Everyone dealt with loss differently. As they aged, the fear of losing someone would only get magnified. In Shinohara’s case, waking up to find most of his friends gone was just like having thousands of knives stabbing him in the chest at the same time.

That silence proved that the wound had bled again. “Thanks, Amon, for being alive.”

Amon snapped his head up at Shinohara. His frown deepened.

“What’s with that face? You’re not going to cry on me, are you?”

Amon carried a faint smile. “This is the first time I hear someone thank me for being alive.” He looked down again. “If it were Mado-san...” He still didn’t dare to think. 

Shinohara snorted. “If it were Mado?” 

Amon faced Shinohara again, anticipating the latter’s answer.

Shinohara’s stare pierced Amon. “He would kill you and take your kagune to make a quinque.”

Amon’s face darkened, brow twitching. “I thought as much.” After all, he had become what Mado hated most. He was an idiot for hoping otherwise.

“Hey!” Shinohara slapped Amon’s shoulder. “Can’t you see that I was just teasing you? There’s no way Kureo would have hurt you. You’re like the son he never had.”

“Shinohara-san...” Amon smiled bitterly.

“Dating his daughter though...” Shinohara tilted his head. Eyes looked up. 

Amon gulped. Face writhed. “I owe Mado-san too much.” He snatched the coffee, chugged it down his throat, slammed the empty paper cup onto the table, and sprang up. “But I am not giving up Akira!” He crumpled the paper cup in his hand. “I can’t!”

“Okay, okay! No one is telling you to break up with her, alright?” Shinohara sighed. He tapped the back of his head, watching Amon. “You love her very much?” 

“Mmm.” Amon nodded his head, face flushed as if he just had ten shots of tequila. “I can’t imagine a life without her.”

That answer was expected, yet it amazed Shinohara. He had never seen his junior act like that, at least not with women. “Thinking about her already? I can understand the fascination of someone who steals your shirt.”

“What?” Amon raised an eyebrow. “Why would she do that? It doesn’t fit her anyway.” His mind was picturing the dangled sleeves and the base reaching her knees. On her, it would be like a poncho at best. But then, the fabric was never meant to be waterproof.

Shinohara looked away and cleared his throat. “It’s something you need to find out yourself, Amon.” He patted Amon’s shoulder. “Trust me.”

Shinohara might have said the wrong words, and the light went out. It was pitch black. Inside and outside.

“Seems like someone forgot to pay the bill,” Shinohara said.

On cue, the light returned.

“Well, look at that!” Shinohara watched Amon stepping out.

“Sorry, Shinohara-san. I have to go. I’ll see you again?”

“Mmm. Sure! I’ll hang around.” 

With the door swayed to a stop, Shinohara looked back at the paper cup on the table. He picked up the cup, poured the coffee in his throat, and set the cup on the table. He began to miss his whiskey. 

_ Damn it, Houji! _

If he wasn’t too busy keeping an eye on Suzuya, he could have picked up the telltale too. 

Could he? 

_ “Akira Mado? Kureo’s daughter?” _

_ “Boy!” Tanakamaru smoothed his mustache. “Is that destiny?” _

_ Marude raised a brow. “You sure she’s the right choice? I’ve heard mixed comments. Most aren’t positive.”  _

_ Arima’s eyes swept everyone with a brief glance. For someone who had never appeared in the Special Class’ meeting, Arima sure had an agenda to push, and he was not someone who would back down just because the room was full of skeptics. “That’s just bias and nothing but a hearsay. Her data analysis was what expedited the mapping of the labyrinth.” _

_ Operation Whack-a-Mole. The final rest place for many great people. Most not older than the age of twenty-five. _

_ Marude snorted. “You mean the notorious Mado intuition? Sorry, I don’t see how having another seer is going to help CCG.” _

_ “That seer saved many investigators, including myself.” _

_ “Really?” Aura, who had always been quiet, finally spoke. “Then that should qualify a rare feat.” _

_ Which shut Marude’s mouth for now. _

_ There was just one fallacy.  _

_ “I don’t doubt Akira’s potential,” said Shinohara, “but Amon is still a Rank-One. He’s not qualified to take a subordinate yet.” _

_ “He’ll be if he keeps performing as he’s been doing now. I’m sure you would agree with that, Special Class Shinohara.” Arima came prepared and he rested his case. _

_ Shinohara’s lips thinned. His hand kept polishing the back of his shaved head, as if doing so would save him the hassle for a haircut. He could not refute Arima’s reasoning.  _

_ Amon was a fit horse even without Mado by his side. Correction. Amon did way better than that. He was a beast. _

_ “Akira may be reckless at times, but it’s not unusual for someone new and lacking field experience. Amon’s first-hand experience working under First Class Mado would come in handy.” _

_ That was exactly what worried Shinohara. _

_ “How romantic!” Note by Tanakamaru. _

_ Shinohara begged to differ. He saw Arima’s logic, but a partnership was never that simple. They were people, not some mindless machines that got coded to function as told. While Akira was said to be a copy of her father, she couldn’t replace what her father had with Amon, nor was the comparison fair to her and Amon. Putting those two together would force them to be constantly reminded that Mado had left them. That was cruel and unhealthy. _

_ The discussion never went far, as Yoshitoki Washuu, the then CCG Director, put a stop on that topic. His reason was that such trivial matters should not have been brought to the table. He then ordered Arima and Shinohara to study that topic elsewhere. _

_ Shinohara did not see such need. He could see it in everyone’s eyes. The nail had been hammered in. Even if it was not, they would never shake away an ace’s testimony.  _

He never got to know why Arima went so far to put Amon and Akira together. Arima was never the kind to portray that much interest in staffing. 

Perhaps Arima saw something he did not, like what Houji did, but way earlier? How would Arima feel if he learned that he had become a matchmaker? 

Shinohara laughed. 

Crybaby Amon and Kureo’s daughter. 

On second thought, it was not a bad combination at all.

  
  
  


Amon gazed at the neatly arranged jewelry inside the glass display. 

Rings in unique designs and various sizes, neatly nestled between rows of black velvet grooves. Gold, silver, platinum. Blinding reflection from precious stones. All vied for his heart. None had successfully captured it.

“Sir.” A woman in a black suit approached him. She opened a square case in her hands, revealing a shimmering platinum ring decorated with a small stone—the ring which had snared him years ago.

Amon’s lips curved and gently parted. He recounted times when he thought he had to give up. Finally, the struggle and disappointments were behind him.

“You’ve come at the right time.” Smiling, the staff watched Amon take the ring out and examine it. “We were about to melt this ring. Maybe it’s destined.”

Destined or not, today was the day he received his paycheck. Using his hard earned money to trade for the ring, the meaning was beyond measure. “Please wrap it for me.” Amon placed the ring back into its holder. “I’ll pay with cash.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her hand directed him to a partition at the back. “This way please.” 

Moments later, Amon came out of the store. Eyes glued to a blue, hand-size paper bag, both hands held it close to his chest, the big man looked like a child carrying an injured sparrow. For something so small to have owned his world, it was unthinkable.

_ Just… don’t make me wait too long. _

He still remembered how hurt she was that day. If only she knew his heart was bleeding inside.

Looking at the paper bag that had nested in his hands, he was so glad and proud that he didn’t make a compromise, because she deserved the best.

Sirens in discord yanked his head away. Ambulances. One, two… he counted three. A fire engine chased behind. They all made a hard turn to the right at the traffic light two blocks away from him.

He looked further up. White clouds billowed behind the tower like clusters of balloons, reaching the sky. His ears soon tuned to the clamor that surrounded him, while he stood right in the middle of the crosswalk. His eyes found the big screen outside the shopping complex, where the news was airing.

_ “A power surge at around seven fifteen p.m. has caused fires across the Fourth Ward. Multiple witnesses claimed that they saw cars and electronic devices shut down simultaneously before the fire started—an aftermath that resembled an electromagnetic pulse attack...” _

  
  
  


Leaning his back against the fence, a man pulled out the cigarette from his lips. His nostrils blew out dense smoke. He flicked the cigarette butt onto the concrete pavement.

A cab came in his direction. He quickly withdrew into the alley. With caution, he stuck out his head. 

A blonde, perhaps in her late twenties, came out of the cab. The woman slammed the door and spat at the driver in the face.

While the woman staggered her way into the residential area, the man grinned and turned to his phone, hoping that he had hit the jackpot. 

Nasty as she seemed, that woman was just a deer on tranquilizer. 

Too bad, as the picture on his phone showed, she was not it.

The man pressed the button on his earphone. “Hey, hey. Where’s the girl you have promised?” He pulled the edge of his beanie down to cover his forehead. “My men and I have been very eager to meet her.” He glanced behind. Someone thumbed the blade of a machete. Another rattled his tongue. 

They had been waiting for too long.

  
  
  


He was sitting on the floor, listening to the whistling wind that had seeped through the broken glasses.

Without electricity, that place was long forgotten by humanity. Rather than being engulfed by darkness, he embraced it. Visibility was never an issue to him anyway. Cold or hot, they didn’t matter.

His only concern was the girl in his arms. 

A gentle stir brought his eyes to the girl’s. After a short flutter, her closed eyes finally pried.

“Shou...” Tears rolled in her eyes, threatening to fall. “Shou-chan!” She threw herself at him. 

“Midori—”

“It’s my fault! It’s all my fault! Nat-chan would not have gone out if it weren’t for me!” Her fists crumpled his coat. Face buried in his chest. “They will lock him in that room again. Nat-chan can’t be in there. He is scared of that place!”

“We’ll find him.” Shou stroked the crown of her head. “But you must not go out again, or you’ll be taken too.” 

Sobbing, Midori finally looked up to Shou. “You promise?”

Shou smiled. “Promise.”

Midori then turned to her right. “What about her?”

Shou blinked. He then peered to his left, where a wall stood.

Head tilted. Arms limped. Both palms faced up, flanking the straightened legs on the floor. Like an unstrung puppet, Akira’s slumped form was barely supported by the wall against her back.

Midori arched her neck to meet Shou’s eyes. “She was on the roof. I saw her watching Nat-chan being taken away.” Her grip loosened as Shou rose to his feet.

Shou went to Akira and crouched next to her. With two fingers dug into her collar, he applied a firm pressure right beside the throat. 

The coldness, the static, and the absence of fluidity—the verdict was clear.

“I killed her, didn’t I?”

Shou threw a glimpse behind. “I’ll take care of her.” The details did not matter. He would take care of it. He always did. 

This time though...

Shou looked at Akira and withdrew his hand. “Sorry,” he muttered. “You shouldn’t have been there.” He did not know why he even bothered. Regret, penance, or sentiment. He had none. 

Shou stood up, only to lower his head after. 

A hand had cuffed his ankle. Under his very eye, the grip was tightening in the most sluggish way.

Impossible...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I write about Amon, I always cheer for him. He never lacks the grit to do the right thing. And now he’s doing it for himself. 
> 
> Ten years! Someone please get a champagne!
> 
> If only Arima is around to see it...
> 
> I wonder what else he did behind the scene, and I have a theory about appointing Akira as Haise’s mentor. Let’s see if the story fits in.
> 
> ———  
> Next chapter: Amon gets ready to ask the question. The celebration at New Anteiku is about to take place.
> 
> But the most important person...


	13. Akira

Firefighters unplugged the hose and rolled it into a barrel. Paramedics pushed the last casualty on a gurney and into the rear of an ambulance. Police stayed in position. Some guarding the police line. The rest were directing and relieving the congestion.

“What?! You’re stranded? Can’t you send some motorcycles?” The radio hissed. “Hello? Hello?” Hayashi reached into the car through the rolled down window and hung the radio back on the dashboard.

“Do you get any signal?” His partner, Yoshida, who had been warming the shotgun since they arrived, stuck his phone out of the window and raised it high.

“Can you stop playing with your phone and help me out?”

“What do you want me to do? Examine the body?” His crossed arms cushioned his head.

Hayashi gritted his teeth, withholding himself from smacking Yoshida in the head. The only reason he didn’t do it was that the situation had been under control.

“Come on! Urie has gone back to Headquarters. You don’t have to try so hard now.”

Yoshida had a point. Like most of their colleagues, Hayashi picked the job as a bureau peacekeeper because it had lower risk and decent pay. Years of paper-shuffling dulled his senses, making him blunder more often than not. He couldn’t blame Urie for being harsh on him. Even he was routinely embarrassed by his own mistakes.

That didn’t mean he had given up on becoming better.

Hayashi stared at the white cloth-covered body that was lying on the crosswalk. Until the lab technicians and M.E. showed, the corpse had to remain on the cold and wet asphalt.

Though the death was tragic, the toll would have been worse had the paths not cleared.

Hayashi peered at the eastbound street. Vehicles, debris, and all other obstructions on the road were stacked aside, leaving a clean and clear lane.

Whoever did it. That person must have had enormous strength and speed.

“Who do you think the hero was?”

“Hero? They call him that now?” Yoshida finally looked away from his phone. “If the witnesses' descriptions are correct, it’s either a One-Eyed or a relative of Frankenstein.”

Hayashi was more inclined to the former because he too had stumbled into the mysterious being.

Black robe. A hood covering the head. Over six feet. Shoulders sturdy and broad like a boulder. Those were some traits that were hard to be missed.

Had Hayashi stayed where he was instead of taking a step, the giant wouldn’t have leapt out of his sight. However, he did catch a glimpse on the right face, when the giant turned his head to glance behind. The red glow on the eye was something Hayashi would not forget. That was the first time he had seen a ghoul up close, not with eyes that were infested with hatred but admiration.

He had heard of good ghouls. He just never believed it until he saw one.

Unbeknownst to the peacekeeper, the unnamed ghoul was standing on the ledge of an abandoned building, overseeing the busy junction. As the night resumed its peace, he too withdrew into the darkness.

Not everyone at the scene was there to help.

A man in a black overcoat had been keeping himself away from the crowd, staying on the high ground of a slope. Despite the distance, he had a clear view of the cordoned area. His vision, however, funneled onto the body covered with white cloth, and then the green cab next to the body.

The plate number matched what he was looking for.

The man raised the phone to his ear.

_“Hey, hey. Where’s the girl you have promised?”_

If he had a choice, he wouldn’t want to deal with those thugs.

_“My men and I have been very eager to meet her.”_

“Change of plan. I’ll contact you.” He pressed the red button on his phone, which had a long and rigid antenna and the design of those made in the nineties. His thumb then pressed twice on zero. “This is Natori. We have a situation.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Shou watched the hand clamp harder around his ankle. He snapped his head up to look at her.

Whether she had opened her eyes, he couldn’t tell. There wasn’t any more movement coming from her. But through his infrared vision, he could see that her contour was getting distinguishable from the ice-cold wall.

His ears began to tingle.

“Shou!”

The distance between them warped. He vanished into thin air and reappeared cradling her in his arms.

They had company.

He took Midori, broke through the glass window, and leapt off from the tenth floor.

Shou supposed he could annihilate them, but their numbers were rather unpredictable. Worse, engaging in a fight would leave signatures that might expose himself and Midori—something he had been striving to avoid.

A pack of humanoid creatures set foot on where Shou left. Their throats crackled at what they had found.

One of them took the lead, towering its monstrous body above a limp form. It grabbed her face and tilted her chin up. As its large mouth split from ear to ear, the clicking continued to emit from its throat. A viscous string streaked down its jaw and hovered over what would be its meal after several weeks of starvation.

Time for a chew.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He dipped his arm into the sleeve of a grey jacket. Watching himself in the mirror, he adjusted the tie. His eyes then drifted to the wardrobe, in which a velvet case was sitting at the corner. A faint smile escaped him.

And an ear-splitting wail took everything away.

Amon dropped his head and sighed. Almost forgot he still had a baby to entertain. “Alright, alright!” He jogged to the crib and picked up the baby, whose cheeks were red and teary.

The baby gripped onto Amon’s lapel and chest pocket. With his face buried into his father’s chest, Yuya continued to bawl his eyes out. If he could talk, the baby could have been accusing Amon of negligence.

Tapping lightly on the baby’s back, Amon hushed his son. Yuya’s voice, which had turned coarse, wrenched Amon’s heart. The baby was not only the youngest but also the only child who had Amon’s twenty-four-seven attention. No surprise that the baby had become the apple of his eye.

Only until recently when Amon took the job in Tokyo, that he had to leave him behind, which might be the reason Yuya seemed to be hysterical at times. With the nine-month-old beginning to recognize people and his surroundings, it was natural to feel insecure, perceiving his father’s soon departure.

“ _As the year ends, birth rate has reached its new record-low. While hospitals across the nation are keeping the empty beds in their neonatal wards, Aizawa Maternity Hospital has made an official statement to shut down its neonatal ward after facing zero birth for the third month…”_ The radio droned on.

Amon brought the baby downstairs and went to the kitchen to search for the baby formula. The weight alight from his arm right after he opened the cabinet.

Surprised, Amon turned to his left, where a teenager with messy hair stood. Tranquility resumed. In the boy’s arms was Yuya, who was happily sucking his bottle of milk.

“ _Humans are going extinct! And what is the government doing? Passing an equal right bill for ghouls!”_

“You should change.”

Amon stared at the teenager, then looked down at his suit. Eyes widened at the tears and snot that smeared his jacket. “Ah!”

Hikari nimbly stepped aside, giving way to his clumsy guardian, as the latter rushed up the stairs.

Emily seemed to have observed the ruckus while standing at the door. “What happened to him?” The brunette approached Hikari.

Hikari turned around and headed to the door. “He might be proposing today.” He did not bother to look at her as he walked past her.

Emily blinked at Hikari’s back. Her eyes then widened. “What?!” She ran up to Hikari. “Propose? Koutarou? How did you know?”

Hikari sighed, regretted that he did not keep his mouth shut.

Amon, on the other hand, had changed. He brushed the navy blue fabric on his chest, then pulled up his sleeve and noted the time. In a hurry, he grabbed his trenchcoat from the stand, skidded along the hardwood floor, skipped some stairs, and landed onto the stepping stones.

“Papa!” “Koutarou!”

Amon was so close getting to the gate. Still, he swung around. Rain or sun, his children always came first.

Pink, yellow, purple, blue, and red. Tulips, lilies, carnations, daisies, irises, and even sunflowers. The young ones had gathered together, surrounding Amon in a colorful circle. It was the end of the year, yet it felt like spring.

“These are?”

“You will see Akira, right?” Shinji, the one with orange spiky hair covering his ridge, asked. “Everyone wants to give her a present.”

“For Mama!” One of the children cried out. The rest of them leapt happily.

Amon beamed. The children were very thoughtful. He wondered where they found those flowers, which were moist with dews. Those definitely weren’t something they could forage in the wilderness, at least not in the winter. “Where did you get these flowers?” The more Amon looked at those flowers, the more he felt like he had seen them before.

“We cut them out from the glasshouse!”

Amon gasped. Glasshouse? “Is it the same one that is located on the west corner of our garden?”

“That’s right!”

Amon sighed and slapped a hand on his forehead. “Those are Tsukiyama’s most precious flowers.”

“Papa, you don’t look happy.” Akane, the six-year-old with a chubby face, frowned.

Amon crouched and pinched the girl’s face lightly. “These flowers don’t belong to us.”

“They don’t?”

Amon shook his head.

“Why do you take care of them if they’re not ours?”

“The owner had been very kind to have donated this house for us to live in. I promised him to take good care of this place, including those flowers.”

Akane lowered her head. The other children followed. “I’m sorry. The flowers look so beautiful, we thought...”

“I know.” He cupped the girl’s hands and gathered the flowers into his hands. He proceeded to collect the rest of the flowers from the other children. “You love Mama a lot and want to make her happy.” He bundled the stems together, which was just nice to make a neat bouquet.

The children smiled in amaze.

“I’ll make sure to give this to her and let her know how much you love her.” No doubt. The flowers were fresh and gorgeous. “I will apologize to the owner.”

“I’ll apologize too!”

“Me too!” “Me too!”

The children nodded their heads.

“Papa…” Kizuku, the seven-year-old, adjusted his oversized glasses, before stepping up to Amon and grabbing his arm. “When will Mama come home?” His lips quivered. “I really miss her!” He cried.

The rest of the children joined their brother.

“Kids…” Amon couldn’t finish his sentence, as the wailing overtook his voice. “Kids!” He stood up. “I’m going to bring Mama home!”

The children quieted down instantaneously.

“Really?” Kizuku sobbed. “She’s... coming home... today?”

“Maybe not today.” Amon crouched, laid the flowers on the ground, and took out a handkerchief from his pocket. “Mama might need some time to pack her things and settle her work.” He wiped the tears away from Kizuku. Looking at the boy, he smiled. “But she will come home.” Amon glanced at the children. The number didn’t seem right. “Where’s Chibi?”

“Papa!”

Amon twisted his back.

Under the chin of a soil stained face was a flat dome of leafy green. Wrapping the thick white trunk of the mini tree in her arms, Chibi smiled brightly at Amon as if she had brought home a big game.

“Chibi.” Amon’s brows twitched at the roots that were still shedding soil. “That’s not a flower.” It would not have been a big deal, unless that tree was a five-hundred-year-old heirloom to the Tsukiyama family. Even if he were to work for a hundred years, he could never get enough money to compensate.

“He’s going to blow it.” Hikari turned to look at Emily, who had been watching Amon and the children from afar. “Mark my word.”

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Emily smiled at him.

“Huh?”

“You wouldn’t have paid attention to the jewelry brand printed on the bag he brought home from Tokyo or told him to change.” Emily went up to him and grabbed Yuya’s tiny hand. “You even timed Little Yuya’s feeding today. Right?” She shaped her mouth on the last word to Yuya, who had chuckled in response.

“Are you an idiot? We need someone more reliable to run this place.” Hikari looked to Amon. “I’m so sick of picking up his mess.” The reason was sound and irrefutable.

“Yeah right.” Emily turned away from him. “I’ll help make a bouquet!” She ran out of the house and joined the children at the porch.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


In the far north, where the blizzard ruled, two men hid themselves in the white forest. One of them was looking through the binoculars, scanning the plain.

“Hey, Naki!” Ayato lowered the binoculars. “You sure this is the place?” He turned his back.

The blond pulled out a tablet from his white parka. The screen had a red dot bleeping. “The signal is still there.”

“I can’t find an entrance.”

“Yeah, it’s a secret base for a reason, right?”

“Yet that place is sending you an RC-wave.” Ayato raised the binoculars and looked around. White, white, and more white. Even when he pinched his eyes shut, he still saw white. “Screw it!” He threw away the binoculars and stood up.

“Where’re you going?”

“Recon. We’ve been sitting here all day and got nothing!” Ayato leapt off. He was going to wrap it up today and get back to Tokyo no matter what.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“It’s been a long time.” With the bouquet in his hands and close to his abdomen, he stood before the headstone of his mentor, eyes staring at the epitaph. “Had planned to see you sooner. I guess I was too afraid to face you.”

He let out a laugh. “I kept thinking… What’s your thought on the subordinate you once were proud of becoming a ghoul? Angry? Disappointed? Maybe both?” He waited, as if he would get an answer.

“Things have changed, Mado-san, but the world hasn't. The ghoul’s existence, born or made, it’s still wrong.” Amon narrowed his eyes.

“But I won’t lie by telling you that I don’t appreciate having a second chance.” He looked up to the grey sky. “Because of this body, I can be with her.” He lowered his head, looking at the headstone again.

He took a breath. “I love her, Mado-san. I want to marry her.”

A flurry raked across the cemetery, so strong that Amon had to shut his eyes. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the wind with an arm raised. “Mado-san!”

The wind just wouldn’t stop. Even the bouquet in his hands was blown away.

“She’s your only daughter! The only family you’ve left!” He struggled to steady himself. “I know that you’re worried!”

It roared at his ears.

“I can’t… I can’t promise that she won’t feel sad again!” He grasped his tie and crumpled it. “But... I can promise… that she’ll never be alone!” He dropped his knees onto the ground. “I’ll be with her! Always!” Both hands laid before his knees with the fingertips angled. “This is my vow to you! Please… please grant us your blessing!!” He bent his torso forward, sticking his face as close to the ground as possible.

The howling stopped, as abrupt as it came.

He kept his head low, anticipating an ambush. For a full minute he stayed there, but the wind never returned.

Amon sat up. “Mado-san…” He blinked at the headstone, then looked left and right.

The tranquility gave him a chill.

He snapped into attention. Brows pinched together, and he faced Mado’s grave again. “This may mean nothing, but I’m taking it as a ‘yes’!” He bowed. “Thank you, Mado-san!”

He let out a breath of relief, as he thought he had overcome the biggest challenge of his life.

Boy, was he naive...

Amon sat on the long bench, staring at the flowers in his hands.

He was able to salvage whatever that was left. Most of the petals were gone. Some of the stems snapped. Even the fancy paper that wrapped the bouquet was covered in wrinkles.

No woman would nod her head on those flowers.

He was thinking about buying a new one. He just couldn’t bring his heart to throw them away.

How could he? Those flowers were handpicked by the children out of love for Akira. How was he going to tell the children?

He sighed and looked up. His eyes found some curious and questioning stare from the onlookers, who quickly turned their eyes away.

Amon looked down and exhaled. The condensed air drew a veil over the ravaged flowers and vanished.

His little angels or the love of his life. He had to make a choice.

The lampposts lit up.

Amon looked up, mesmerized by the orange glow hanging low in the red sky.

Which reminded him…

Amon took out his phone and looked at the time. It was almost five, but his date hadn’t shown.

It wasn’t like her to be late. Even then, she would have called. There was only one thing that could catch her and make her forget everything.

Her job.

Amon pressed on the speed dial. He waited a full minute before reaching her voicemail. “Hey, Akira. It’s me. Just wondering if you’re coming. Call me, okay?” He hung up, sat there for another hour.

She never came. Never returned his call.

He took the bouquet to the nearest trash can and discarded it. When he went back to Shizuoka, he would apologize to the children and tell them the truth.

That was the reality. He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed, but that wasn’t the end.

There was always another chance, if he ever met her, that was.

Amon stopped and turned, finding himself standing before a convenience store.

He wondered if she had eaten well.

With such a demanding job, she hadn’t even had adequate sleep, let alone a proper meal. He still remembered those dark circles on her eyes the last time he saw her. When he met her again, he ought to persuade her to quit her job, before it took a toll on her health.

That thought led him to her apartment.

Amon stared at the door. The four plastic bags full of frozen food began to numb his hands. Now that he thought about it, he shouldn’t have bought those salmon sticks to bribe the cat.

Anyway…

Amon put the food down and tucked a hand into his pocket for the key—a spare given by Akira after that encounter with her neighbor.

He inserted the key and turned, barely made a twenty degree counterclockwise, but couldn’t go further.

Because it wasn’t locked.

Amon slowly pressed down the handle and pushed the door open.

Something rushed out of the door and jolted him.

“Maris Stella?”

The feline circled Amon, mewing. That was the first time that the cat ever came out to greet him. Weird.

Amon opened the door again, noticing the light was on.

Maris Stella already trotted back into the apartment and went straight into the room.

“Akira, are you home?” He blocked the door with a foot to prevent it from shutting as he gathered the bags into his hands. “Akira?” He let the door close behind him and slipped off his shoes.

“Akira?” He knocked on the bathroom. “Are you in there?”

_Meow._

“Oh, hey there.” It was strange to have Maris Stella rubbing her back against his ankle. That cat had always been indifferent to him. Perhaps he smelled like salmon.

_Meow._

“Are you hungry?” Amon crouched down, trying to touch the cat, but Maris Stella trotted back into the room. He scratched his head, giving up trying to understand that cat.

His eyes followed the hallway that led straight to the bedroom, noticing the blanket on the bed had been peeled.

Maybe Akira was home.

He left everything on the floor, on his way to the bedroom. Something black was lying on the floor, on the opposite side of the room, next to the bed, and behind the wall. It was barely sticking out into his view. The shape became distinctive when he reached the door.

Amon widened his eyes. His mind went blank.

A pair of feet, in black stockings tracing all the way up the legs. Face tilted to her left, facing the cupboard. A blonde with a braided bun was lying on the floor, still in her formal black suit.

_Meow._

Her cat was staying beside her, pacing back and forth.

“Akira!” He dropped next to her and turned her into his arms. “Akira! Wake up!” He had never seen a face as pale as a piece of paper.

Not from someone alive.

He pulled out his hand that was cushioning her head. His eyes quivered at his open palm.

It was drenched in blood.

“Hands up where I can see them!”

Amon slowly turned his head to the door, right when the pistol aimed at his head.

“Yoshida, no!”

_Bang._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Birthday banner stretched from one corner to the other. A colorful cone strapped on everyone’s head. Laughter and jubilance imbued the air.

A crowd encircled a crib. All eyes mellowed at a tiny little being.

“Oh, he looks just like the King.” Nico pouted his red lips and winked at the baby.

“Don’t you dare kiss the baby, Nico!” Nishio bared his teeth. “You’ll pass him germs!”

“How rude…” Nico rubbed the crook of his neck, tilting his head. “You know, I have a strict beauty regime. Mouth hygiene included. Can’t you smell my mint breath?” He stuck his face up to Nishio, with his mouth open.

“Get that face away from me!”

The door opened and tinkled the bell. A white-haired girl came in, looking around.

“Hey, princess!” The Gourmet crouched before the girl, who peered over his shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

“Tsukiyama-san, have you seen Ayato?”

“No, I suppose he’s with Hinami-chan.”

The girl took off, running to the kitchen, where her parents were.

“Mama, Ayato isn’t here yet?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.” Touka sliced the sandwich. “Have you looked for him outside?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t find him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here. Why don’t you go play with your friends?”

“But I don’t want to.” She pouted her lips and ran to her father.

Kaneki, with his arms stretched over the edge of the counter, had glued his eyes to the kettle on the stove.

“What are you doing?”

“Not yet…”

Ichika’s cheeks bloated. She ran to her mother. “Mama, Papa is acting weird!” She pointed at her father, who was still staring at the pot.

Touka glanced over her shoulder and looked back at Ichika. “You know what? Why don’t you help Mama take a look at your brother? Make sure he doesn’t get crushed from all the cuddling.”

“Mmm!” Ichika made a sharp nod and ran away.

Meanwhile, Kaneki's face twitched at the slight rattling from the kettle. “Not yet…” the rhythm became frequent and louder. “Almost…” and a thin spiral of vapor escaped from the kettle’s mouth.

“Now!”

Kaneki snatched the kettle and poured the hot water around the filter paper. After the filter paper gradually turned transparent and fully soaked, he set the kettle aside, turned the dial on the stove to low, and poured the water out from the glass holder.

He grabbed some coffee beans and crushed them until they were at the right size. The beans then nestled in the wet and still hot filter.

Kaneki grabbed the kettle again. He gently poured the hot stream onto the beans, making a gradual spiral.

He stopped as soon as the beans became moist, pressed the timer, and watched the countdown. Right when it beeped, he took the kettle and poured the hot water onto the coffee beans again. His motion followed a precise circular trajectory, as the sweet aroma with the power of waking up a sloth filled the air.

“Perfect!” Kaneki watched the extracted essence dripping onto the base of the glassware. His grin was victorious.

“Do you have to be so worked up?” Touka seemed to have watched Kaneki for some time.

“Akira is very particular about her coffee.” He still carried that smug on his face.

In fact, that was the very first recognition he had from her. His skill in making good coffee.

Touka watched her husband change into Koma’s persona. “Really?” She raised her brow. Her eyes wandered to the pot of stew, which started to overflow. “What about her curry?”

“Shoot!” Kaneki scrambled to the boiling pot. “Ouch!” He hissed and pinched his earlobes.

Touka blew through her nose. “Seriously, why do you have to—”

“Kaneki! You’ve got a call!” It sounded like Kaya.

“Right away!” Kaneki shut the stove and slipped out happily, not knowing that his wife had clenched her fists.

He picked up the handset. “Hello? Oh, Amon!” His voice was so loud that it turned everyone’s eyes to him. “Are you having trouble finding the place?” He went silent for a while.

The curl on his lips flattened out.

“Thanks for letting me know.” His voice turned grim. “Keep me posted.” He hung the handset back to the cradle and plummeted onto the floor.

“Papa!”

“Kaneki!” Touka just came out and rushed to him at once.

Gasping and shaking, Kaneki drew his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his shins and tried to hold himself still.

“Kaneki!” Touka shook him, who had buried his head into his knees. “Kaneki! What happened?!”

“Kaneki!”

“ _Mom?”_

_He was at his old home, watching the back of his mother. His height was just right to have his eyes leveled at her upper body, which had crunched over the low table._

“ _Mom?” He hesitated whether he should go to his mother and her work area. She hardly left that table, not even for a break._

_White flowers in boxes surrounded her. Some of her work in progress spread across the table. The rest spilled onto the tatami, right beside where she was kneeling._

“ _Mom?” He shouted a bit louder and cringed. He didn’t want to stir his mother. The consequence would be grave._

_Yet, he found himself standing in the center of the room, just a few steps away from her. He didn’t understand what he was doing. Even with tiptoeing, he could have stepped onto those paper flowers and damaged them._

_But those red flowers on the table…_

_Kaneki dropped to his bottom and panted. He was staring at his mother’s arm that had slipped down to her side. Everything else faded away._

_The next thing he knew was that he had put on his black suit, kneeling next to his mother, who had a white handkerchief covering her face._

_In his mind were those flowers still bleeding._

_With his mother’s blood._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira’s name in kanji means ‘dawn’. Coincident?
> 
> Happy birthday, Akira!


	14. Heal Me

_She was beginning to enjoy going solo and the occasional pair-up with Houji. Solving three cases that involved Aogiri Tree and six minor cases in less than five months, she was doing pretty good._

_Until Arima tasked her to train Haise._

_She tapped her ballpoint pen on the case file, eyes staring at her junior, who seemed to have more interest in the coffee maker than becoming a ghoul investigator._

_While she was supposed to play mother with the man who had no recollection of his past, Akira was running out of patience._

_That gullible, hopeful, and happy face. She wondered if he had lost anyone._

**_Akira…_ **

**_Bug off, Mado!_ **

_“Akira.”_

_Her brows raised at the steaming black liquid that was put on her desk. Unlike most of the investigators, she wasn’t a fan of caffeine as it tended to race her heart._

_That scent though…_

_She never realized she had brought the liquid to her lips. The sweetness on her tongue and the smoothness along her throat… “This is... good.”_

_When she turned to him, he had the brightest smile._

_One that touched her heart._

  
  
  


Chatters. Motors rumbling. Screaming. Repeat.

Hayashi wasn’t complaining, but it was getting harder to focus on the road. “Could you turn that down?”

Yoshida, who was sitting beside Hayashi, pressed replay on his phone again. “This woman is a goner.” 

“We don’t know that.” The scream continued to bombard his ears. Hayashi had given up getting Yoshida to keep the volume down. He once thought that the EMP strike had crippled the network for good. Who would have known it could be restored in just two days? “We have to assume that she’s alive until proven otherwise.”

“Yeah sure!” Yoshida put his phone away. Finally. “Like someone who had been attacked by a ghoul would just go home like nothing happened.”

Although Hayashi didn’t want to admit it, Yoshida was right. That video was at least two days old. With the chances of survival near zero, they would be very lucky to find the body in the next few days.

Assuming there was anything left.

Hayashi shook his head. He shouldn’t be so pessimistic. If the victim did survive, she might be depending on them to find her. 

And the clock was ticking.

“Maybe it’s just another hoax.” It wasn’t just thinking on the bright side. Hayashi had lost count how many times he had been tasked with cases that later turned out to be some senseless pranks. Given a choice, he would rather slap a ticket to someone than to have that person dead.

“Fat chance. Anyway, has it ever crossed your mind that the Chief just wants us to scout? Why can’t we be the ones to check out Matsuoka?”

Hayashi squinted at his partner. “I thought you liked it easy.”

“This is Matsuoka, Kento! They hired a lot of ex-military, cops… Peacekeepers are the hottest. We’re talking about big money here.” Yoshida sighed. “I wonder when someone will offer me that kind of money.” 

Hayashi snorted. “With your attitude?”

“My skills! Perhaps you’ve never heard...” Yoshida mimicked holding a pistol. “I’m a good shot.” He smirked.

Hayashi rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Ten years ago. When was the last time you fired a gun?”

“Three months ago and I got a perfect score. Thanks for asking.”

“The evaluation doesn’t count, Yoshida. Face a ghoul and you’ll be shaking.”

“Tell me again after you’ve shot a ghoul.” 

It seemed like Hayashi’s phone too had enough of Yoshida’s boast. “Hayashi.”

_“Hey, Fujino here. Guess what? Akira Mado is no longer working for Matsuoka.”_

“She quit?” Hayashi glanced at Yoshida.

_“Two days ago.”_

“That fits the timeframe. What else you got?”

_“Wanted to talk to her boss. Turns out he’s gone abroad.”_

“You believe that?”

_“Well, we don’t have a warrant. However, from what the receptionist told us, Mado didn’t look well when she left.”_

“Was she sick?”

 _“Not sure. Whatever happened, she seemed to have left in a hurry. We found her car in the parking lot.”_

“Then how did she leave?”

_“In a cab.”_

“Tell me you have the plate.”

_“Who do you think you’re talking to? The number matches the one drove by the dead driver we found on the day of the fire.”_

“No way.” Hayashi let out a heavy breath. “This means… When did Mado leave?”

_“What’s the matter?”_

“We’ve just picked up the autopsy report. The C.O.D. was heart failure. Poor guy’s pacemaker fried.”

_“That’s what you got from the unprecedented EMP—oh… Are you saying—”_

“That video. It had to be before the EMP attack.”

_“She left around five in the afternoon.”_

“The fire started around seven. We need to check the surveillance. See if we can find Mado and identify the witnesses.”

_“Right. Let’s hope that there are still some cameras left untouched.”_

“Any luck on the blogger?”

_“It’s a ghost. Kajiwara is pulling his hair.”_

“I can imagine. He’d never lost to anyone before.”

_“Oh no, he’s glaring. What about your side?”_

“We’re on our way to Mado’s apartment.” 

_“Stay sharp, Hayashi. Those hounds are in frenzy mode. You don’t want to cross them.”_

“Right.” Hayashi hung up.

“See, what I‘ve told you.” Yoshida smirked.

Hayashi stepped on the pedal, even though it might be too late.

  
  
  


_The sharp blade came at her, barely missing her face by a second._

_Akira swung the katana-like quinque up, just in time to block the tip of her opponent’s quinque, which was an inch away from her carotid artery._

_The quinque in her hands shuddered. As her foot gave in, she took a step back to keep her balance, hoping it would offset the opposing force._

_For a man about her size, he certainly had a great deal of strength._

_And he had barely used it._

_Though she loved cats, she had no interest in being played like the mouse._

_Akira twisted her shoulder back. Her opponent’s blade slipped and grazed along the length of her quinque. The metallic chime rang too close to her ear._

_She stepped aside and watched him stumble forward._

_But he didn’t fall._

_He managed to arch his back somehow. His leg kicked high up, giving him an extra boost to make a back somersault. The quinque in his hand followed the same trajectory, charging ahead of him as he lunged towards her._

_The way he was using the quinque…_

_“Special Class Arima?” Her eyes flew right._

_He held there and turned his head. It was a familiar face, but not the one he had expected._

_“Ouch!” He crouched and covered his head with both hands. When he looked up again with teary eyes, Hirako came to him and gave him a hand._

_Akira swung the katana-like quinque down. “Lesson number one… Never take your eyes off your enemy.”_

_“That’s cheating.” Haise rubbed his head._

_“Do you expect ghouls to play fair?”_

_“...no—” He caught the quinque thrown to him._

_“Let’s take ten.” Akira turned around, leaving. “Find me in the office when you’re ready.”_

  
  
  


When both officers reached the main entrance, they found it swarmed with people.

Cameras. Recorders. Distinctive bands wrapped about the arms. One wrong move and both officers would be on tomorrow’s headlines.

Hayashi and Yoshida stared at the journalists for a few seconds, then glanced at each other.

Simultaneously, two fists faced each other, waved twice, and stopped.

A pair of scissors against a rock. Hayashi won.

Yoshida rubbed his face, filled his lungs full until his chest bloated, and marched towards the journalists. “Alright, everyone!”

While Yoshida led the journalists aside, Hayashi waltzed in easily with just a flash of his ID to the security on duty. He took the elevator and pressed four. 

_Ding._

Hayashi stepped out of the elevator and came into a hallway. He fished in his chest pocket for a piece of paper.

“Four-o-two…” He searched door-to-door for the number. As the sequence was in descending order, he walked further down, took a turn to his left, and found one of the residents came out from about three doors away from Hayashi.

Hayashi walked past him, briefly nodding his head. The latter returned the same gesture.

Hayashi stopped, looking at the number on the door to his right.

Four-o-five. Since it was in descending order…

“Excuse me, sir.” Hayashi turned around.

The man halted and moved no further.

“Did you just come out from four-o-two?”

The man slowly turned. He didn’t face Hayashi. Instead, he leapt over the rail guard.

“Hey!” Hayashi hunched over the railing, bewildered that someone had landed on his feet unscathed.

Moreover, he sprinted across the atrium and disappeared.

“Oh no you don’t!” Hayashi scrambled to the emergency exit and jumped along the stairs. “Yoshida!” He cried out at his radio. “A runner coming in your direction!”

“Where?”

“Main entrance. Go there now and cut him off!”

Yoshida ran out, looked left and right. Beside the cone trees and bushes, he saw no one.

Until a man climbed over the brick fence.

“Hey!” Yoshida was too late when he got to the fence. The suspect had disappeared on the opposite side of the wall.

Yoshida hissed but took off again. He circumvented the fence, entered the street, only to realize that there wasn’t even a ghost.

“Did you get him?” Hayashi finally arrived. He grabbed his knees and panted.

“Lost him. What does he look like?”

“Black ball cap… maroon hoodie, and jeans.”

“I’ll check that side. You cover the other.”

They both spread out.

Yoshida jogged along the street. He didn’t need to go far.

He raised his foot and saw what he had stepped on—a cluster of cigarette butts, right at the junction that led to a dark alley. 

_Cliché._

Yoshida pulled out his pistol and tread carefully. One step at a time, he went deeper until darkness consumed him. 

  
  
  


_Hirako followed Akira out of the gymnasium. “First lesson went well.”_

_“If you refer to the talk.” She strode the hall, never looking back._

_“Something bothers you?”_

_She stopped. “Those moves…” She turned about and looked Hirako in the eye. “That was exactly how Special Class Arima fights, but Arima never hesitates.”_

_“I saw him aiming for your vitals.”_

_“Without the intention to kill.”_

_“You aren’t suicidal, are you?”_

_Akira crossed her arms. “First Class Hirako, there’s something Special Class Arima is not telling me about Haise Sasaki, and I think you know what that is.”_

_As usual, that bland face was impossible to read. Arima planned well even when it came to sending a snitch._

_Hirako didn’t have to answer, because she would find out the answer._

_Sooner or later._

  
  
  


Yoshida clicked the button at the back of his flashlight and crossed his wrists to align the light with his aim.

Hayashi had it right that he liked everything easy. It didn’t make sense to put himself into danger, yet he was doing it.

When he was almost near the end, he stepped on it and swung sharply to his left.

The hair at the back of his neck raised. He swirled his gun just in time to take an aim at someone’s chest.

He didn’t lie about being a good shot.

His only problem...

Yoshida felt his blood running cold. It was fifty degrees outside, yet he was sweating. His eyes rolled up to focus on the barrel that was inches away from between his brows.

“Are you going to speak or should I make you?” 

Damn! He took his line as well.

_Face a ghoul and you’ll be shaking._

Yoshida tried to keep his cool. He couldn’t let Hayashi win this. If someone was using a gun, at least that person was not a ghoul.

Right?

“You think you’re faster?” Yoshida smirked, curling his finger at the trigger. He had no idea who was, but at least it was a good line.

_Click._

“He’s right.” A gun loomed into the street light, then Hayashi’s face. “You know what to do.”

The gunner rolled his eyes, took in a deep breath, and lowered his gun. 

He fought back.

The gunner pushed Yoshida’s arm aside while swirling towards the latter and chopped him at the neck.

Losing his balance, Yoshida crashed onto Hayashi. They both dropped onto the ground and groaned.

The gunner didn’t run away. Instead, he went up close to the duo and kicked away their guns. Smirking, he pulled out his ID. “Kojiro Inoue. Cyber Crime. And why are you two following me?”

“T...SC… Kento Hayashi.” He pushed Yoshida away. Panting, he flashed his ID to Inoue. “No one’s following you. We are looking for someone with a ball cap and in a hoodie.”

Inoue’s eyes trained on Yoshida, who had a baseball cap and a yellow hoodie.

Hayashi rolled his eyes, got back on his feet, and dusted off himself. “He’s my partner.” When everything was over, he had to sit down with Yoshida and go through the dress code again. “Did you just say Cyber Crime? What’s Metro PD doing here?” He went to pick up their firearms, then returned one to Yoshida.

“I know there’s going to be a merger soon. That doesn’t mean we’re family now.”

“Fine!” Yoshida got back up. “We won’t talk either.”

“Never asked.” Inoue tapped a packet on his palm and picked a cigarette out.

Yoshida watched Inoue light the cigarette. “So it’s you who left those cigarette butts.”

Inoue huffed the smoke. “Not me. Those had been there for days.”

“How did you know?”

Inoue frowned at them. “You sure you’re from TSC? I heard they’re all elites.”

Yoshida stepped up. Before he could argue with the detective, Hayashi pushed him back.

“Look. I don’t mind standing here arguing with you. I’ve got all day. Not sure if you’re the same.”

Hayashi finally remembered...

The peacekeepers rushed back to unit four-o-two.

Yoshida tapped Hayashi’s shoulder then looked at the slit between the door and the frame.

Hayashi pulled out his gun and waited for his partner to do the same, before he slowly pushed the door open. 

Hayashi went in. Yoshida followed behind and, being a thoughtful guest, gently closed the door behind. 

Immediately, Hayashi’s eyes caught a pair of size-thirteen Oxford’s, which were lying a little askew before a step. Those shoes had outshone the doormat with an angry cat design. 

The duo exchanged glances. Just how often did they meet someone who could fit in those shoes?

Guest, friend, or lover. Hayashi couldn’t recall if Mado’s dossier had explicitly stated her relationship status. Whoever it was, they had to make sure they weren’t stumbling into a foe.

Hayashi took the lead. He slipped off his shoes. While that act was a custom, it was more to help cloak his presence as long as he could. 

With Yoshida covering him, Hayashi gingerly moved towards the bedroom. His eyes glanced at a bunch of plastic grocery bags left on the floor and by a closed door.

Hayashi paused before the final few steps. He raised his gun, rushed into the room, and swept it with his gun.

“Hands up where I can see them!” Hayashi cried out at the crouching man, who had slowly turned.

It was all normal, until Hayashi saw the black sclera on the man’s right eye. 

And a gun came into Hayashi’s peripheral vision. It wasn’t his. 

“Yoshida! No!”

_Bang!_

  
  
  


_“What is this?” Akira frowned at the brown card box, which was similar to the ones used to store the A4 documents in the archive._

_Boxes from the archive had its label and were sealed with CCG’s tape. The one on Misato’s hands had someone’s name._

_That name Akira hadn’t heard in almost a year._

_“Special Class Amon’s personal effects.” Misato took Akira’s question literally. “Since you were his partner—”_

_“I don’t want it.” Akira walked past her colleague._

_“I thought you cared.”_

_“Will you leave me alone if I say I did?” Akira stepped into the just arrived elevator. The door closed. Not fast enough._

_“He didn’t have anyone. You know that!” Misato pressed her shoulder against the closing door. “Will it kill you to just take some time and mourn him?” Her rage mixed with regrets, overwhelming the brunette._

_Good for you, Amon._

_“If it helps kill all the ghouls, I’ll do anything.” Akira couldn’t look at Misato anymore. “Do you mind?” She had to get away before the emotion caught her too._

_That gape on Misato didn’t last long. She clenched her jaws and stepped away from the door. Even when the door was closing, she fixated on the blonde, condemning her heartlessness._

_Mourning?_

_Akira lowered her head, letting out a laugh._

_Sure, she could always swing by and lay down some flowers. The cemetery had been a second home to her. It wasn’t hard at all._

_Just how would she do that, when he didn’t even have a grave?_

**_Please don’t do anything reckless._ **

_No, she wouldn’t. She had to stay alive and kill ghouls._

_Every single one of them._

  
  
  
  


“What the hell, Kento?!” Yoshida cried out. “I could have shot you!”

Blood oozed out from the back of his shoulder. His grey trench coat bloomed with deep red. The one-eye remained on his knees, his back against Hayashi and his partner.

Now they knew the bureau didn’t lie about the improved Q bullets.

Hayashi holstered his gun. “He’s friendly.”

“He’s a ghoul!” Yoshida kept his aim at where it had been.

“I know that!” Hayashi snapped. “Are you alright?” He looked at the one-eye, who hadn’t moved a muscle after taking a hit at the back.

“A-ki...ra…” The one-eye loosened his grip. A head slipped out of his arm. 

Hayashi pulled out his radio. “Dispatch… This is Kento Hayashi from Seventeenth.” 

As his furrow deepened, the one-eyed had had his eyes planted on the woman in his arms. Not even the wound on his back received that devotion. 

He had a good reason.

_“Go ahead, Peacekeeper Hayashi.”_

The trail along her temple and the color on her face… 

“We’ve found Akira Mado. Send an ambulance. ASAP.”

  
  
  


_Akira froze, eyes staring at the box that somehow ended on her desk._

_She thought she had sent a clear message._

_Apparently, her message wasn’t clear enough._

_“There isn’t a single day I don’t miss them.”_

_She looked up to her left. “Special Class Houji…”_

_The black haired man carrying a warm smile squeezed her shoulder lightly. “It’s okay to feel that loss. You are not alone.”_

_“And what good does it do?” She looked into his eyes. “Wallowing in pain, unable to get up from your bed because it’s too difficult to breathe…” Would someone living in the past be able to do that? She was fine like she had always been._

_Though she wouldn’t say the same about Houji._

_The big hand lifted off from her shoulder. It hovered for a while before it withdrew itself. His ache was written all over his face._

_He wasn’t the only one. Even Arima did that sometimes, but in a more subtle way._

_Just what did they expect of her? Bawling her eyes out every time she saw them or giving them some words of solace?_

_“I’m sorry for your loss, Special Class Houji.” That was the best she could do, yet that awestruck face told her that she hadn’t done it right._

_She had given him a few seconds. Perhaps she was still hoping that he could answer her question._

_“Akira… You have to let yourself heal.”_

_“I have.” She picked up the box. “Dwelling in the past is not going to help.”_

_She had come a long way for that wound to heal. Last thing she wanted was to let a box undo her._

  
  
  


Johnson swung the club, whipping the air.

Natori came in and stopped next to his boss, who had picked up another golf ball. “The TSC has just left.”

A scream interrupted him.

Natori to the screen on his right. The video stopped at a girl with fangs pouncing at a woman. 

“That’s trending.” Johnson swung the club again. 

The secretary creased the skin between his brows. 

“What do you think?”

“Starving? Probably looking for Nathan.”

“Or both.” Johnson made his stance and aimed the club at the ball. “I’m amazed that she and Nathan made it this far.” He struck the ball. It made a dent on the projection screen and bounced off. “They had help.”

“Who do you think—”

“Someone close.” Johnson inserted the club into the bag. “Closer than we think.” He left the simulator.

Natori followed him to his work desk. “I’ll alert the security.”

“Let’s not draw any unnecessary attention.” Johnson bent his back, opened the mini-fridge beneath his desk, and took out a glass bottle of clear liquid. 

“Your life might be in danger, sir.”

“Nathan is caught. The full-blood may be dangerous, but she’s still a child.”

“Sir—“

Johnson raised his index finger. “While I don’t like such an important asset running loose, she’s not going to pose a threat.” He closed the fridge. “Give it some time. She’ll return.”

Natori‘s eyes followed Johnson going around the desk. “What about Mado?”

Johnson grabbed an opener lying next to the keyboard and uncapped the bottle. “I’ve been thinking about Avalon System’s launching...” His eyes fixed on the screen behind Natori.

On the muted news channel, a correspondent was standing outside the emergency and trauma. The bottom of the screen had a news ticker.

_Ghoul-attack in Fourth Ward: Avalon System Project Leader Found._

“I think we’ve found the spokesperson.” Johnson gulped down half the water in the bottle and poured the rest onto the floor. “One too dead to tell her story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing the flashbacks a lot. Imagine how Akira interacting with Haise and be reminded of who she had lost.
> 
> That pain is Uuggghhhhh!
> 
> You get what I mean.
> 
> Next: The brutal truth in the making of an outstanding investigator.
> 
> For the sake of revenge, how low would you go?


	15. The Brutal Truth

_Since the day he met her, she had never gone easy on him._

“ _Stand up, Haise.”_

_He could look at her all he wanted. A cold glare was all that he would get from her. Even when he was on his knees, clutching his stomach, tears in his eyes, nothing seemed to sway her._

_She was brutal, but he had always believed that wasn’t all she was._

_Until she killed all of them._

  
  


  
  


“So…” Touka had her arms crossed. “Are you going to tell me?”

Tsukiyama, Nishio, and Banjo turned their faces away.

“It was my idea.” Yusa stepped into the room, sheathing the sword on his back. “We can’t let what happened six years ago to repeat itself.”

Well, listen to that tone. After all those years of proving himself, that was how much faith they put on Kaneki.

“And who are you to decide?”

Yusa glanced at the man who was sleeping soundly on the futon. “You saw how he reacted.”

“Do you expect him to swallow it as if it’s nothing? He’s a person in case you forgot.”

“Touka.” Tsukiyama finally spoke. “It wasn’t confirmed. We just thought we should check out the source before we say anything. We didn’t know you had…”

_Invited her._

“Well, he did mention he had some important guests coming.” Nishio, the orange head, held his chin and looked up. “I thought it was Nagachika.”

Touka exhaled. That idiot. Why did he have to make it so secretive?

A rustle brought their eyes to Kaneki, who had sat up, still as a stone. The light in his eyes, gone.

“Kaneki?” Touka called. “How are you feeling?” For a few seconds, she thought she lost him.

Kaneki slowly turned his head to face her. “Can you take the kids to Yomo and stay with him?”

Touka blinked. “Yes… sure, but why?”

Kaneki took her hand. “I need to see her.”

  
  


  
  


  
  


“ _It’s done.” The man, with bangs covering his eyes, handed a big silver case to Akira._

“ _Thanks. Appreciate it.”_

“ _You’re welcome. When did you get the idea of increasing its length and flexibility?”_

_She turned her palm and looked at it._

_The shattered Doujima. Even now, her palm still remembered how heavy its fragment was._

_Had she paid more attention to its flexibility instead of reinforcing the tensile strength alone—_

“ _It’s just a spur of the moment.” Details were never important._

“ _It does make sense to have that in the long-range. Although…” Chigyou held his chin. “You sure that’s what you need? You lose agility at the same time.”_

“ _I’ll figure it out.” She smirked before heading to the door. As a matter of fact, there was nothing hard work couldn’t solve._

_What she needed were some targets._

  
  


  
  


Nakajima stood before the toilet, watching the lab tech drip some red liquid into a test tube.

_Meow._

When he turned around, another lab tech took a plastic pet carrier out of the apartment.

He went further in, where the bedroom was, loosening his tie on the way. Another staff dusted the glass door with a flared brush. It seemed to be locked without so much as a scratch on the glass.

While he still had to wait for the lab to confirm, his experience told him tampering was unlikely.

He regretted turning to his back, as a burst of flashes had temporarily impaired his vision. The lab tech bowed repeatedly to him before resuming a few more shots on a low table, which the edges stained with blood, though a significant one was the puddle behind that had been marked with a big Arabic numeral ‘two’.

He rubbed the stubble on his chin. There was blood in the toilet and bedroom, but no sign of forced entry. The only witness who might have seen everything was a cat.

Those two… He gave them a simple task and yet—

“Ma’am, you can’t go through here!”

Nakajima rushed out to see what happened, especially at this hour.

“What happened to Mado-san?”

“Ma’am, please stay behind the line.”

“Mom?” He blinked.

“Yasu.”

Nakajima waved the blue uniform away, then turned to the lady with a silver bun. “Why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” She pulled the plaid scarf that had slipped off her shoulders. “Don’t you know your mother lives in this block?”

“No, Mom. I mean… why are you coming here?”

“I know the lady living here. Is she alright?”

“You know I can’t say anything.”

“At least tell me how she is. That poor lady…” She shook her head. “She left her husband and children at Shizuoka and came here alone.”

“Wait. She’s married?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it until you saw her Prince Charming.” With a hand cupping her cheek, his mother huffed. “A tall guy with a gentle heart.”

Nakajima knitted his brows, wondering who his mother was talking about.

  
  


  
  


  
  


He didn’t know where he was going. He just followed along until a pulled curtain blocked him.

He slowly backed up, almost hit by a crash cart. When he had spun away, an incoming gurney drove him back to the wall.

“Sir?”

The beeping saturated his ears. That was the only noise he heard.

“Sir!”

And then an alarm blared.

“SIR!”

His eyes finally noticed a man in scrubs standing before him.

“Did you come with Akira Mado?”

“Yes.”

“Are you her family?”

The question reverberated in his ears. The white light began to blind him.

_They were staring at each other. None of them initiated a conversation._

_Since it was his fault… “Sorry, Akira—” A wiggle in his arms interrupted him._

_He looked down. A mouth, not bigger than the width of his thumb, opened widely and closed again. Amon wasn’t the only one looking at the tiny being in his arms._

_Angry or not, Akira hadn’t said anything._

“ _I will handle this. Don’t worry.” Maybe getting a couple more part times. “...He’s the last.” That was what he said last time._

_And twice before that._

“ _It’s fine.”_

_That shed the stone on his chest. He could finally breathe._

_Though a little too soon._

“ _I’ll leave tomorrow. You can use the space to place a crib.”_

_He froze. His mind was stuck with her words as she walked past him._

“ _Where are you going?” He spun around._

“ _Tokyo.” She stopped briefly. “One of us has to make a living.”_

_When she turned her back to him, his reached out hand slowly withdrew. He didn’t stop her._

He should have. If he did, perhaps he wouldn’t be staring at the sliding glass door and springing to his feet every time it opened.

His racing heart like the night itself just never ended.

“Mister Amon.”

He bounced up. He had anticipated all kinds of answers, but he could never get ready for the real deal.

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just…” The nurse then glanced at Amon's shoulder. “Has anyone helped you with that?”

He blinked, then it reminded him to glance over his shoulder.

It was drenched in red. No wonder his back was clammy.

“If you would come with me, I’ll take a look—”

“Uh—That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.” No one in his right mind would refuse help. But, a Q-bullet lodged in his shoulder was much easier to be dealt with than some terrified humans.

“You have nothing to worry about. The peacekeepers had briefed us about your…” Her eyes drifted up briefly. “Circumstances.”

Amon widened his eyes.

Black seeped into the nurse’s scleras, and her pupils glowed red. “You’ll be in good hands.”

  
  


  
  


  
  


_**Squad Leader Koutarou Amon has made contact with the enemy…** _

_She wouldn’t forget that day. How she lost him._

_**His opponent is…** _

_In a leap, her boots made a splash out of a puddle of water. She pulled out a flashlight beneath her coat. The light shone into the giant mouth, which had been spewing rainwater collected from the afternoon shower._

_She stooped a little before entering. Her grip tightened around the handle of her briefcase._

_The Owl, Rabbit, and now…_

_She hadn’t stopped searching. She wouldn’t. If she found the ghoul responsible for his death, she could have a chance of getting closure._

_And revenge._

“ _Where are we going?”_

_Akira glanced behind. She had so gotten used to working alone that she forgot her other objective. “To make an outstanding ghoul investigator, you need to grow. There’s no better way to accelerate the process than getting into the field yourself.”_

“ _This means… my first mission?” Haise gaped. “Really?”_

“ _Do you think you can handle it?”_

“ _I won’t let you down!” He saluted with a broad smile._

_That idiotic optimism… She sincerely hoped it would last long. “We’ll see about—”_

_A creak stilled them._

_Akira didn’t utter a word. Instead, she swept the area with light until it caught a child smiling at them._

“ _You’ve brought a friend!” The brown-skinned boy grinned._

  
  


  
  


Urie stood on the steel frame, overseeing the city beneath him. His gloved hand touched the rusty rebar as the morning breeze freshened him up.

The sun rose high, shining onto the ruins of concrete and steel that were lushly covered in greens and vines. That view stretched into the horizon, and he saw no end.

It was hard to believe that this place used to be the Twentieth Ward.

“Remind me why I’m here.”

He looked down to his left, where the petite woman with a chubby face was sitting. Like him, she was perching on the scaffolding, just one level beneath him.

“Give me something.” He pressed his earphone. “Preferably before Saiko kills me.”

“ _Still nothing. Sorry.”_ The communicator hissed.

“ _Can’t blame her. Every one of us has different priorities now.”_

“ _Jini, you know it isn’t the leader’s fault for being short staffed.”_

“ _Keep sucking up—”_

“Alright, cut the chatter and keep looking.”

“Argh!!” Yonebayashi sprang up. “See!” With fists clenched, she looked up to Urie and glowered at him. “I told you that you didn’t need me here! Now I’m going to miss Maman’s party!” She clenched her fists.

Urie rolled his eyes, trying to remember when it became a crime for doing his job.

“ _Leader. Saiko.”_

“About time.” Urie smirked. “Any Orphans?” As long as he could get out of there, he would take anything.

“ _Come and see for yourself.”_

  
  


  
  


  
  


With her arm up to her nose, Yonebayashi stepped closer to the center of the empty hall. She looked around, faltered when something dropped before her eyes.

Yonebayashi looked down. Something dark and convoluted, like a rope, was on a pool of dry blood. She later recognized that it was a segment of entrails.

“What happened here?” Urie crouched beside a decapitated body, which was twice his own body-size. “Has the United Front been here before us?”

“I doubt that.” Ching-Li glanced at the shattered glasses tainted with blood and soft tissues. “I heard they were tracking down a lead in the north.”

Blood splatter. Soft tissues. Body parts. Like a giant blender went out of control.

“Could it be—”

“Meat Grinder?” Higemaru finally spoke.

“No, no. We took care of him!” Urie sprang up.

“Matsuoka took him. Who knows what happened after that.”

“Or before. Check out the decomposition…” Ching-Li stared at the darkened remains. “It’s likely been here more than a week.”

Higemaru leered. “For someone who was stuck in a desk job, you know a lot.”

“That desk job is what’s saving your—”

“Enough!” Urie snapped. “Let’s not make any guesses. I’m calling it in.” He took the lead to get out of that slaughterhouse. The stench was getting unbearable.

“Saiko?” Ching-Li watched Yonebayashi stand up. “Are you coming?”

“Okay.” Yonebayashi hid her hands behind her back, only brought them over when her team wasn’t looking.

Descending the stairs, Yonebayashi uncovered in her hands a soft woolen sock. Half of the size of her palm, the tiny sock had a bunny sewn on it. It was hard to tell the original color as it was soaking—already hardened—in red color.

Yonebayashi turned the sock. Her finger lingered on the embroidery of two katakana characters. “Hi… ro…” She hoped the child wasn’t there when it happened.

“Saiko!”

Her hands snapped together. Head up.

Glowing bright, her friends were looking her way, but not at her.

When she turned around, she thought the Sun had come down on them.

  
  


  
  


“I believe this belongs to you.”

A tiny blue sock fit right in Kaneki’s palm. His eyes were drawn to the bunny sewn on it.

The thing about socks was, they usually came in pairs.

“It fell out of her pocket. The other one seems to be missing.”

His thumb rubbed against the embroidery. It was unmistakably his son’s name.

Kaneki looked up, unable to say a word. His hand pressed flat onto the glass window. He could no longer contain the tears that had been rolling in his eyes.

Lying on the sickbed, Akira was buried under a mess of tubes while wires crawling along her shoulders and arms. Though the look was enough to make anyone wince, the serene face did not seem to be aware of it.

Whatever they gave, had put her into a deep sleep.

“I was going to propose.” Amon shifted to the glass window. A weak smile escaped him. “I took a job. Got a ring. The children even made a bouquet…”

The mention of the children reminded Kaneki what he had heard from Touka.

Amon sighed. “I should have made her quit her job a long time ago.”

Kaneki wondered if Amon could’ve done that.

_Mom… You don’t have to keep working… It’s enough. Just stop. Please…_

Kaneki pressed harder against the glass window, almost at the brink of cracking it. He should be in there, by her side instead of those hard cold machines keeping her company.

But he wasn’t allowed to go beyond that wall. A measure to reduce the risk of infection.

So they said.

With the back of his hand, Kaneki wiped the tears that hinged on his chin. “You should stick to the proposal.”

Amon finally faced Kaneki, who had been smiling.

“I have a hunch that she will say ‘yes’.”

Amon stared at Kaneki, then closed his eyes and let out a laugh. “Even you…”

A hunch… That was the magic word.

And it worked all the time.

  
  


  
  


“ _A year ago, the CCG conducted the Owl Suppression Operation in this ward. It was one of the largest scales…”_

_Haise listened as they followed the boy along the sewer._

“ _Though the operation was a success, we have suffered a great loss. The CCG, her best men. The residents, their homes.”_

_Haise glanced up at the stray lights that pierced through the storm drain at every few feet. “I can’t imagine…” His eyes returned to the braided bun leading before him. “This ward seems so lively.”_

_His mentor finally stopped and turned around to face him. “What you see now is the spirit of the Japanese people who poured their hearts and minds together.” Akira turned around and resumed her path._

_A breeze met his face. As the stifling air dissipated, they too came out of the drain._

“ _Without their hard work, the restoration would be impossible.”_

_Haise watched the creek that stretched all the way into the woods._

_The boy skipped his way across the creek, making use of the surfacing stones and heaps of pebbles as launching pads._

_The investigators followed along._

“ _However, some were left out of the picture.”_

“ _What do you mean?” Haise quickened his pace to keep abreast with Akira._

_Before Haise realized, the boy had grabbed in his hand a lantern as he led them deeper into the wood._

“ _His name is Sunny.” Akira jutted her chin out at the boy. “Parents came here on student visas. Turns out the school was a fraud.”_

_Haise widened his eyes. “You mean… He’s undocumented?”_

_Akira didn’t answer, as the boy had stopped and prompted them to do the same._

_Sunny picked up a branch from the ground, knelt and then tapped rhythmically on some dry leaves._

_Strangely, he heard sounds of hitting an empty tin can. And then, a screech._

_Something hatched open and a lid came off._

_Several heads bobbed from the ground. Watchful eyes peeked at them._

  
  


  
  


  
  


The door sprang open, and Marude marched into the command center. “Talk to me.” Marude arched over the panel, eyes at the clusters of monitors.

“S-Two had lost contact an hour ago in the Twentieth Ward. We are still trying to reconnect.”

“Dragon Orphans?”

“Not on our radar.”

“Then…” Marude spread his blazer back and grabbed his waist. “What do we have on the radar?”

“Some heat signature. Two actually. It looks like…”

“They are…” the other analyst turned his chair to face Marude. “…helicopters.”

“SDF? What are they doing in the no-fly zone?”

“I’m afraid it’s not them…”

The analyst pressed a key.

A man with high cheekbones, sitting behind a desk, appeared on every screen. “Greetings, Director. This is Takeshi Yamada—”

Marude glared. “I know who you are. What the hell did you do to my peacekeepers?”

“We detected ghoul activity this morning in the Twentieth Ward. So, the Avalon System reacted to it and purged the whole ward. Unfortunately, your men’s high RC-signals had set off—”

“So what you’re saying is that your stupid computer made a mistake?”

Yamada raised a brow. “Matsuoka is not accountable for TSC’s tardiness in reporting its operation.”

“Last time I checked, TSC still has the jurisdiction of that ward and we don’t report to you.”

Yamada smirked. “I’m afraid that has changed, Director Marude. The government has employed Matsuoka to act as the first responder to all ghoul threats in Twentieth Ward.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“We have disabled the system for the rest of the day for search and rescue. Rest assured that we will share our resources and intel to TSC if the need arises. We’ll be in touch.”

The word ‘Disconnected’ blinked on the screens.

Marude gritted his teeth. His face twitched. “Like hell I’m going to trust you with my men’s lives.” He snapped his head to the left. “Get me the Minister of Defense! Tell him I’ll release all the ghouls in Cochlea if he rejects my call again.”

  
  


  
  


  
  


“ _Wah!” Haise, jostling the toddler who was straddling his shoulders, cried out in joy. There were more children, all not taller than four feet, trailing behind him._

_Each had their hands clutching onto the person before them, they ran about in the room as Haise led ahead._

“ _Ready for another round?” He glanced behind, slowing down._

_The children wobbled and couldn’t stop laughing as they were pulled along._

_Even in a room that could barely fit two double beds, the fun they had was no lesser than a visit to a theme park—a place not meant for children without status._

“ _Here we go!” Haise bent his knees to pretend a dive as he charged ahead, passing by Akira, who was kneeling at the corner. “You should join us, Akira!”_

_Akira made a brief glance but didn’t reply. In her hand was a candy wrapped with glossy paper. She had given it to a girl holding a dirty doll._

_Haise looked back. It seemed like the rest of the children were having something in their mouths. He could see some of their tongues were dyed in black. “What did you give them?”_

“ _Coffee candies.” Akira stood up._

_Nice. Coffee was his favorite too. Maybe he could—_

“ _By the way…” His mentor went to a table to pick up her briefcase. “Play time’s over.” When she turned around, her lips curled._

“ _Akira?” Haise put down the toddler, eyes staring at her._

_A snake-like spine burst out of the case, coursing through the room and spiraling around the children._

_Stunned by the foreign invader, the shaken children stepped back, but they could go nowhere except gathering in a brood._

“ _Haise…” With an eye relaxed, the other widened, Akira let her lips parted. “Have I mentioned that they are ghouls?”_

  
  


  
  


  
  


It wasn’t the sort of reckoning she had expected.

Seconds after she opened her eyes, she pinched them shut. Her hand pressed onto her skull as hard as possible, but the throbs beneath were impossible to reach. Gritting her teeth, she rolled to her side and forced her eyes open.

Bad move.

She gagged, barely stopped the acid at her throat. She held her breath and remained still for another minute. It never did help.

_Meow._

She opened her eyes again. A hazy image moved towards her until it refocused into something she could recognize.

The will to call out its name made her breathe again, though short and shallow.

She hurled herself up, somehow got onto her feet. As she shuffled towards the door, the floor beneath her swung. Had she not recognized the decor along the hallway, she could’ve thought that she was at the sea, though she didn’t remember changing the lighting.

Her eyes hurt as she stared down the white light, but she drudged on.

She slammed against a closed door. Once the knob turned, she fell before a toilet bowl, which she later clung onto it as if her life depended on it.

She spilled her guts until nothing came out of her. Whatever her last meal was, the color suggested that she must have taken it rare.

Just one small problem—she didn’t remember having any.

She didn’t dwell on that matter for long, as her world was still spinning, just a little lesser, along with dull throbs. Sitting on the floor and her back against the wall, she learned that not making any drastic move—or not moving at all—was the exact remedy to fix her ordeal.

As she was getting comfortable, her ears began to ring.

And it wasn’t all in her head.

_Meow._

The cat joined her, rubbing her head and body against Akira’s arm.

She appreciated Maris Stella’s support. Unless her cat was able to pick up the phone…

“ _Hey Akira. It’s me…”_

That cheerful voice was just the boost she needed. She groped for anything that she could reach, be it the ceramic rim of the toilet bowl, to get herself up.

“ _I tried to reach you through your cell so just in case…Uh, what I mean is…”_

Biting down as hard as she could and with all the will she could muster, she had kept her shuddering limbs straight, and remained like that long enough to put herself back on her feet.

“ _I forgot to tell you the time for tomorrow’s celebration…”_

Many times she had criticized his prolix status report. But this time…

_Keep going._

“ _Luckily, Touka had your home number.”_

She scuffled back to the bedroom, her shoulder grazing against the wall. Though slow, she had made some steady progress.

“ _Anyway, about tomorrow…”_

Tomorrow? Had it been a day?

She stopped at the door, trying to catch her breath. Looking up, she saw the phone sitting right on the cupboard, less than ten steps away.

She had to walk across the room if she wanted to catch the call fast.

Without any support.

_Haise._

She pushed away from the wall and made her first stride.

“ _Just come at noon.”_

Her arm fully extended, hand so close from touching the phone. She wanted to tell him that she had bought a gift. That she was looking forward to seeing him and meeting his children.

Along with Amon.

“ _Remember to bring an empty stomach. See you tomorrow!”_

_Thud._

Everything stopped.

She was on her side, staring at the cupboard through a rotated view, both hands crumpling the black fabric over her chest.

She had never been able to catch anything in her life, no matter how hard she tried.

“Amon…” Her shout was too soft, not even close to a whisper.

But she needed him. Now more than ever.

She closed her eyes, her grip lax.

She dreamed about telling him that she had quit her job.

The smile he had… she wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loss and vengeance finally broke her. Will she become like her father, who had let darkness consume him?

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry guys, I need more time than I have initially thought. Hopefully, Chapter 16 will be finished by Christmas.
> 
> 23 Dec: yeah, I’m still alive. Just being tied up to my work life these days. I have around 2,000 words, about half of the chapter. I will take a few days off to continue the work. Will update my progress. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> 20 Feb: looks like it’s going to be over 4k words. I need to write more and organize the flow. If necessary, I’ll split the chapter.


End file.
